All You Need Is Love
by JohnPaulGeorgeandRingo
Summary: - I'M IN THE PROCESS OF EDITING/REWRITING THIS STORY! PLEASE BEAR WITH ME! 20/06/2012 - Rogue with a little help from Jubilee finds herself developing romantic feelings for Logan, much to her chagrin. The best friends team up in the hope of snaring the one man that appears to be out of reach, will Logan play ball though? 100% Rogan.
1. Love Me Do

_**This is my first ever Rogan, and it's silly. VERY silly. So please expect silliness The first half of the story deals with the beginning of everything silly, the second half... Well, you'll just have to read and find out. It's still silly, though. It's my silly baby, very silly. Silliness is bound but never gagged in this story. Expect silliness! **_

_**Anyway, please tell me what you think. Reviews are my crack, they truly are.**_

_**The silliness is all set after the catastrophe that was Last Stand. Anything else you want to know, just ask and I'll be willing to reply in a silly way. **_

**Updated and rewritten chapter as of 20/06/2012 – I hope you still enjoy the silliness!**

* * *

**Love Me Do**

_Love, love me do.  
You know I love you,  
I'll always be true,  
So please, love me do _

_- The Beatles  
_

* * *

_It all started with an innocent comment that went something like this, "Doesn't his perfect ass look great in those ripped, rugged and ready to rip off jeans, Roguey?"_

_I looked; I'll admit that I looked again and know I shouldn't have done. I'd spent a lot of my time looking; I just couldn't help myself. Homework has been left high and dry because I looked until my eyes were bloodshot and in fear of cracking open like eggs. I looked until I developed unhealthy issues and became a pervert. I even looked until I felt like weeping when he eventually left without removing any other shreds of clothing. _

_Oh God, did I look and because I looked I'm now a loud, proud and positively psychotic pervert, but hey, nobody is perfect in this world and all I did was look. _

_Okay, this is all Jubilation Lee's fault! She asked me that prickly, loaded question and made me look. But she's my best friend, so I can't kill her, it wouldn't feel right. The girl is boisterous and often crude, and gets me into the worst trouble, and I still can't kill her. Trust me; once you get to know her adorable, often crazy ways of behaving, you will love every inch of her and those funny little quirks of hers. I mean what the hell? This girl is fixated, no, she is obsessed with guys; all guys of any age, shape or size! Just why did she have to look at this particular man and why was I looking with her? _

_Of course it didn't stop with the looking, oh no, things became a lot worse, and that's when it happened. It all happened so fast I couldn't stop it and to be honest, I didn't even think I wanted to. From the comments on the fringe of, "That guy has serious walnut cracking ass cheeks!" to, "I'd love to lick some Chunky Monkey off those fine abs" everything toppled on my poor frazzled brain until realisation dawned on me in a flash! I liked Logan and I really loved looking at him. _

_This is where the story began, after the looking, and right where the silliness and scheming started to engulf the mansion and myself and Jubilee's lives. My story is a rambling one and I offer no apologies to you for the length and twists or turns. I do suggest you take a seat though and send your family and friends a note tasting of goodbye, because this is where things get messy and absurd. _

_So here we are and it all began on a stifling Tuesday morning in August of 2008… _

When did this looking morph into a crush that was crushing me? No scratch that dumb question, how could I let this happen to me? I'm smart and I have a brain I mostly enjoy using when the questions aren't too tough, so how did this happen!

Have I actually fallen in love with Logan, the resident asshole of the mansion? Do I even know the meaning of love or is this just lust? I'll be damned because they're both as bad as each other. I'm yearning for something that is so far out of my reach and it always will be. I'm just a silly kid in his eyes. Even though the law says I can drink, drive, gamble and fuck, of course, not all at the same time, but I'm twenty-freaking-one! I'm not the kid he saved from the freezing conditions in the Canadian wilderness and I'm nothing like the upset girl on the train. I don't even think like I did on the statue anymore, I've matured, and I refuse to be treated like a kid by Logan and his hard, toned, delicious ass.

I snap my eyes shut and I plead with myself to drift back to sleep and ignore the Logan thoughts, the sound of that annoying person creeping into my room and the smack of a pair of heavily glossed lips. Gum! The intruder is eating gum and my life is over as I know it.

"Roguey, if you've died, I'm going to kill you."

Snorting at the words, I open one tired, bloodshot eye and stare at her for a moment or two."That's not even possible, Jubes." I grumble half-heartedly, my heavy Southern accent thickening as the huffiness grows. "And I'm not dead yet!"

I drag the covers over my head and hope that I suffocate. Suffocation equals an unconscious Rogue and that sounds like Heaven right now. I'm completely mortified about being dumped by Bobby, even more embarrassed I didn't see it or the cheating coming.

"You weren't at breakfast." She declares like she's the only person that noticed said situation as she chews on a piece of gum loudly. "Is there anything you want to tell your best friend?"

"No, there ain't. Now get outta here, Jubilee."

"I don't like being kept out of the loop, Chica." She pouts, blowing a well-rounded yellow bubble with her sacred gum.

"Jubilee, there's no loop except you! You're a fruit loop dressed in lemon and you're annoying me." I slam back with my words and turn angrily on my side. "I'm completely fine. There's nothing bothering me, because I'm one hundred percent fine. Completely fine! Bobby and Kitty are doing fine, I'm fine, you're fine and Logan is fine. We're definitely all fine and dandy!"

"Okay." I hear her say and I hope that signals she's fine, no longer looking at me and leaving. I want to go back to moping, sulking and sleeping. That is what I was put on this Earth to do and I'm pretty damn good at it. "Oh, by the way, I nearly forgot Logan's on his way up here."

"What!" I demand in a terrified and desperate tone, saucer-eyed and almost delirious with worry.

I glance worriedly at Jubilee, she nods her head, and I curse rapidly under my harrowed breath. In seconds, I spring to my feet, tossing the bed covers to the floor and gazing around the room searchingly.

"But – But he can't be!" I complain, dragging my slender fingers through my tangled hair in a mass panic. "Jesus Christ, I'm all bed hair and bad breath!"

I dash around my room throwing any object that doesn't resemble a hairbrush onto my bed, floor, over Jubilee's head and as far away from me as possible. Why am I so disorganised and where did I hide my fucking hairbrush?

"Oh my God, I need to get changed. What do I wear? Shit, I'm going to die if he comes in here right now!"

Abandoning the last thought for a long moment, I launch myself into my bathroom to brush my teeth. "Whatever you do, Jubes, don't let him in here. Not when he'll take one look at me and run screaming from the mansion and all the way to the nearest brothel."

Jubilee suddenly squeals and then bursts into a fit of hysterical laughter, collapsing onto my bed in the crazy process. "I knew it!" She cries, pointing an unwavering finger at me. Her nails are brightly painted summer yellow and splattered with silver glitter, and the critic in me is disturbed by the colour.

"Have you lost your mind finally?" I question her as I look concerned, standing with the toothbrush in my hand and spearmint toothpaste decorating my lips.

"You do like him, I knew it. Oh, I'm so good. I knew you were hiding something from me. Shame on you, Chica."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I claim quietly, almost overcome with embarrassment. "Wait a minute, you knew what would work?"

"You're blushing, Roguey!" Jubilee starts to squeal again. "I'm that intelligent and beautiful I knew if you thought I wanted to jump Wolvie's bones you'd get jealous and admit your feelings for his scrumptious ass. But when you didn't and this is the good part, I lied and said he was coming up here right now to see you."

"You planned all this? I didn't get any sleep last night because of your scheming!" I snarl, hurling my toothbrush at my so-called best friend. "And I'm not jealous. I don't get jealous. Never ever do I get jealous! I don't look either. Oh, and I'm not in love with Logan!"

She grins at me, parts her lips and takes a deep breath before belting out a loud tune. "Logan and Marie, sitting in a tree, F-U-M-B-L-I-N-G. First comes touching, second comes the grinding... !"

"Shut the heck up!" I order in a frightened tone, attacking her on the bed and clapping a hand over her enormous fucking mouth. "The whole mansion will hear you and I don't want that. You'll make their ears bleed with your voice." I slowly remove my hand and fall into a comfortable heap next to her.

"I don't think even Wolvie can hear my beautiful singing voice from the city." She snorts, continuing to hum the terrible tree song.

Has he really gone to the city without me again? That used to be our thing when he could see me growing bored of the mansion and going stir crazy here. Why would he want to do it alone and leave me here? Who am I kidding; we're not even friends anymore because he'd know doing something like that would hurt my feelings.

"What's up, Rogue?" My friend asks, sounding concerned for me.

"It'll never happen, Jubes." I sigh with a sprinkle of sadness; glaring childishly at the ceiling and wishing it would collapse on my head, putting me out of my misery.

"What, you and your hairy lover boy? Who says you won't be rocking away in a bed come the weekend?"

"He's in love with another woman for one thing. I'd be surprised if he hasn't dry humped her grave yet. And he thinks of me as a little girl he made a promise to. I don't even know which of those points is worse."

"You really think he loves Jean?" She snorted, scrunching up her nose and poking my side. "She's six foot deep, there's no coming back from that. Anyway, she never liked being humped. Gossip is a beautiful thing and the red headed one never liked it rough, not the way Wolverine likes it."

"That's not the point! Logan still cares about her too much and I bet he would have convinced her to have it rough with him. That's just his way of doing things. His handsome lips can do anything. I swear he should be active in political circles."

Jubilee shrugs and pops her gum. "I don't care about any of those things and you shouldn't either. We're gonna change his mind, Chica!"

"What do you mean?" I question her anxiously, tapping her arm. "I know you've been planning this for a while, but I'm not getting involved, Jubilation Lee."

"Yep," Jubilee responds popping the 'P'. "I knew you'd say that, but you're wrong. You'll help me help yourself."

"It isn't going to work, Jubes, so why bother?" I dismiss her absurd reassurances, refusing to get my hopes up and then cruelly dashed. "There's no point bothering."

My head's not circling in the clouds, it remains here in this room under the firm belief this will never, ever work. My life is never simple and having a feral fall into my lap, one that wanted me, really wanted me, would be just too easy and ridiculous. After all, Logan would never fit on lap, he's huge.

"That's about to change, my clueless, horny friend! Hi, my name is Jubilee and I will be your adviser, stylist and all round matchmaker for the next few weeks."

She turns and offers me her hand to shake. Sighing despondently, I take her hand in mine with slight reluctance and sincerely hope I know what I'm getting myself into because this could be an absolute disaster.

"You've sealed your fate now, Miss D'Ancanto. There's no turning back, you're mine to mould as I please and Mr. King of the Fucking Growls won't see what's hit him in the balls." Jubilee cackles in an evil way as she rubs her hands together.

I gulp as I contemplate the messy, potentially embarrassing task ahead of me. Please just kill me now before I'm even given half the chance to make a foolish fool out of myself in front of Logan. Oh God, I think I'm going to be sick. Why didn't I stay put as a perverted looking look artiste?


	2. Helter Skelter

_**Bologna121 - Thanks and here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy! :)**_

_**Brit-Babe191 - You're welcome! And thank you for the compliment.**_

_**Elwren75 – Yes, Jubilee is an interesting character and funnily enough, not one of my favourites at all. She was actually a random choice and one I was happy to make at the time. Although now I'm typing this a few years later, I'm damn pleased I made said choice because she was perfect for the role in this. Thank you for the review. **_

_**RagamuffinSundrop – I love your penname too! Thanks for reading and reviewing. **_

_**Dudtheman – Oh no, I've just rewritten that line. Complete fail on my part I'd say. XD **_

**Rewritten as of 21/06/2012**

* * *

**Helter Skelter**

_When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide  
And I stop and I turn and then I go for a ride  
And I get to the bottom and I see you again, yeh, yeh, yeh!_

_- The Beatles_**  
**

* * *

"Roguey, get up, get up, get up! Stop sleeping already and get up!"

Oh God no, please tell me this is all just a nightmare. All I want to do is sleep the day away, is that too much to ask? She already forced me out the comfort of my bed with a blatantly cruel Logan lie yesterday and is now waking me up at the crack of dawn today. I would rather murder her than leave this bed again!

"Jubes, what the hell is the matter with you?" I yawn furiously, while the sheets are jerked violently away from my tired body. "It's too early for any craziness."

"It's never too early for craziness. And the suns got his hat on, Roguey, look!" She whines as she waves towards my window and attempts to drag me away from my beautiful, soft and loving mattress.

"I don't care." I grump, scrunching up my nose and just daring her to try and lure me away from my bed. "Leave. Me. Alone."

"But we need to get started on our Hairy Thighs To The Rescue Campaign."

"I still don't care." I stress, lazily reaching for my sheets. "Sleep, I _really_ need to sleep and don't be talking about his thighs. You're going to make me want to look again."

"Fine then," Jubilee replies, a smirk forming on her face. "But Mr. Sex on Legs is an early riser. You should see him working out in the gym right now, shirtless and ever so sweat. He's hard too, Chica. Very hard, very, very hard! He's just ripe and ready for the pick, nip and thorough work out I know you want to give him. You dream about him Roguey, I know you do. You want to look at him, don't you?"

Wait a cotton picking minute, did my greatest sunshine flavoured friend just say that Logan is shirtless, sweaty and hard? I have to look like I've never looked before!

I'm up in a flash and rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Jubilee, I'm awake!"

"Good one, Chica. That means you finally have your priorities straight." Jubilee grins manically, snapping her gum.

"Hey, do you live on that stuff?" I ask her seriously, mulling over the fact I have never seen my best friend without her trusty gum. "You can't have happy teeth."

"Probably not, but my dentist has a cock, not a vagina." She shrugs and ushers me towards my bathroom with a flurry of activity. "Aw man, you smell so badly! You have to take a shower before you go look at Wolvie's hardness."

I blink at her for a long moment; a little taken aback she didn't try to argue with me. I insulted her teeth and she waves it off with a comment about sexual organs and the fact I smell. That's a little strange, but seriously, I stink? "I do?" I ask her meekly, holding up my arm and sniffing at my armpit.

"Yeah, you reek, Roguey." She informs me, pinching her nose for added affect. "Everybody knows people can't smell their own stench, but Wolverine can. I bet he can smell you from the lower levels."

"Is it really_that_ bad?" I whisper, my jaw going slack.

"Heck yeah, I feel sorry for Logan and his hard junk! He's going to have to wear a peg on his nose if he wants to rumble with you in the sack." Jubes tosses back, shaking her head at me. "Shower thoroughly, take your time, and then meet me downstairs. We've got a million things to do and I can't wait."

"But, Jubilee –"

"Priorities, Chica, priorities." She responds, wagging her finger at me and winking. "Logan's really going for it downstairs."

Snapping my mouth shut, I watch her leave and I'm left alone with the flowery whiff of my deodorant. As I shuffle into the bathroom, something tells one of two things, either I've lost my mind while looking, or Jubilee is high on crack, because I smell good!

I slip off my lucky green panties and dark silk negligee, abandoning them in a disorganised pile on the bathroom floor. I never hinted or said I was tidy and anyway, a messy room is the sign of a pure genius who likes to look. And I receive excellent grades despite the fact I have a ballooning crush on a feral who thinks I like Barney the Dinosaur. In my defence, I only watched it once, and that was because there was nothing else on.

Lord, it is so unbelievably blistering right now, they really need to get the air conditioning fixed soon. I'm in fear of melting before Jubilee sets her plans in motion. What would Logan do with a melted Marie?

I climb into the shower and sigh in absolute relief as the cold water lashes against my skin and washes away the tiredness and heat. This is just what I needed, an ice cold shower with no thoughts of Logan. No thoughts at all.

I'm not even thinking about a naked Logan joining me in the shower with his hand reaching lower and lower until his knuckles cusp the outline of my womanhood. No, no, I'm seriously not venturing there! I said no Logan thoughts, damn it, and certainly no steamy ones.

Maybe a well chosen song will help me keep those sinful musings away? I mean like far, far away, as in Australia or perhaps Pluto. Not Uranus though, for obvious reasons.

"Why don't we do it in the road? No one will be watching us, why don't we do it in the road?" I belt out, shuffling in the bathtub.

Okay then, why the fucking fuck did I choose that song to sing? There is something seriously the matter with me. I now want to start looking at Logan in the road while he's naked and looking at me looking at him.

Oooh, oooh, I know what song to sing. It's Bon Jovi time. "Everything you want is what I need, satisfactions guaranteed. But the ride don't never ever come for free. If you want me to lay my hands on you, lay your hands on me!"

No, that was an epic fail on my part too. That's it, I give up. Why do I only remember the lyrics to those suggestive songs? But they'd only be seen as suggestive if you have one of those minds that live deep in the dirtiest of gutters. Which apparently I do judging by all these snapping, highly x- rated thoughts that are dancing around my mind with bulges and growls in all the wrong places.

Jesus Christ, stop thinking about Logan's bulge! Ugh, Mick Jagger in a thong, Mick Jagger in a thong!

Yep, yes, yeah, that works. Thank God for Mick Jagger in a thong.

I peek out from behind my stark white shower curtain and search for my ultra large bottle of shampoo. My eagle eyes dart from the moisturiser, hair spray, tarantula, perfume, deodorant, tooth paste, conditioner and, "Ah ha, you can't hide from me, shampoo."

I've found it because this is my day today. Now I have to shampoo my hair to stop myself from taking on the appearance of a hairy beast and –

Stopping dead, the bottle glides from my fingers and bounces on the shower floor. I tug the curtain back and I'm gazing at a tarantula. There is a fucking tarantula in my bathroom and it's looking at me. It's looking at me like I look at Logan! Oh God, it's staring at me and glaring at me. Somebody help me, it's scuttling towards my bathtub and it's going to attack me. It'll eat me, bite me and that's not fair. I want Logan to eat me out and bite me, but this is a hideous tarantula.

There is a fucking tarantula in my bathroom!

I release a high pitched wail as the gigantic spider; a furry, murdering monster crawls up the side of the bath and sits within biting distance. Oh. My. Fucking. God.

I take a flying leap away from the tub, my wet and soapy feet skidding cleanly across the tiled floor. A sharp squeal erupts from my lips as I collide heavily with a shelf stuffed full of toiletries and I send everything crashing to the floor, including myself.

"Shit," I mutter quietly, feeling rather dazed and bruised as I haul myself to my feet and hold onto the sink for dear life.

That can't have been an actual tarantula can it? Please, please tell me I'm seeing things, as in large, hairy creatures that are trying to kill me with their fangs. Please, please, please. I don't want to die before I've had sex with Logan.

I take a couple of brave, yet timid steps toward the bathtub and then I shriek like my life depends on it when the bathroom door is thrown open and almost ripped from its hinges.

"Kid, what the hell are you doing in here? Throwing a goddamn—"

Logan stands there, his words caught in his throat and his thunderstruck eyes roaming my wet, naked body. Yes, naked. I don't shower fully clothed because I'm American, we don't do that here. I'm completely undressed in front of Logan, in my birthday suit, and only wearing a smile or a look of sheer embarrassment in this case.

"I hate my life," I whine pitifully and tear down the shower curtain in a wave of misery. This wasn't how I anticipated Logan seeing me naked for the first time. Heck, I wasn't even ready!

I'm currently praying profoundly for the ground to swallow me up whole. I have never been so embarrassed in all my fucking life.

Tilting my head downward when I spot something crawling, I squeak in fright. "Fuck!" I dump the shower curtain to the floor and dash past Logan who is still coming to terms with my nakedness.

Oh, please save me from myself, that was a tight squeeze. Okay, now I have the right to be embarrassed. I blush furiously as I use my bed sheets to hide my modesty while I silently hope this is all just a dream. A nightmare, this is definitely a nightmare. Maybe I died and this is Hell.

"Spider," I utter frantically, absolutely mortified to a seemingly comatose Logan. "Big, big, _big_ spider on the shower curtain! You know, it was huge. Huuuuge!"

He cocks an unsure, bushy eyebrow at me and then turns his head to the bedroom door as Leech bursts in unannounced with Bobby following closely at his heels.

"Where is he?" They demand, both speaking at the same time and staring at me with wide eyes.

"Who?" I ask in a shocked state, slowly backing into the corner and cherishing the very thought these sheets are not see through. At least I hope they're not. Please don't tell me I'm blushing again? Christ, if I'm not careful, I'll set these sheets alight!

"Bobby!" Jimmy complains, gesturing widely. "He was kidnapped from my room this morning!"

Yeah, this has to be a damn nightmare. I'd be overjoyed if Bobby had been kidnapped, but he's standing right there, gazing at the sheet I've wrapped around my modesty.

"No, Bobby is right next to you." I answer glumly, wishing it wasn't so.

"No, my pet tarantula, I called him Bobby." Leech frowns, seemingly labelling me as crazy.

"You have a _pet _tarantula? Are you crazy! It nearly ate me; it has huge fangs and all those legs." I complain with a shudder. "It's in there, it's in my bathroom. You had better get it out of here before I slam my physics textbook on his head and yours!"

This is one tale to tell the psychiatrist alright and believe me; I will have a shrink by the end of today. This really isn't my morning and I dread to think what state I'll be in by tonight.

He rushes into my bathroom and soon appears gently clutching Bobby the pet tarantula in his hands. "He won't harm you, see?" Jimmy says, displaying the eight legged assassin proudly in my face.

I snap my eyes shut and try to calm myself, breathing deeply before I lose all self control. It doesn't work. "Out, get out! Get out of my room!"

I startle Leech to such a point he almost drops the spider as he backs away from me and sprints out the door. Now the only people who are left are the real Bobby and Logan.

"I want you out too!" I snap furiously at Iceman, who hasn't torn his eyes away from the sheet wrapped about my body.

My uneasiness at the situation sparks Logan to life and he growls in warning. "Move or you lose more than your free time." He threatens Bobby and the boy scrambles out the room without a second glance.

Here I am, alone with the man of my hairy dreams, and I'm completely beyond the simple confines of embarrassment now. "Um, Logan?" I whisper, dragging my gaze away from the floor and settling on his handsome face.

"What?" He grunts, cocking his head to the side and drinking in the sight of me.

"Can you please leave too? I kind of want to shower alone."

"You wanna shower?" Logan responds gruffly, his calloused hands twitching by his side.

I watch the man closely and wonder what the hell has gotten into him. He's acting strangely, like he didn't know I washed. Those Canadians must be weird; I wonder if they shower with their clothes on?

"Well, yeah. Is that okay? There won't be any hairy beasts trying to bite me this time."

I've come to the startling conclusion there is nothing wrong with me, it's the men of this mansion that are the problem. Although after the sentence I just muttered without a thought, I'm now a hypocrite. There is one hairy beast I'd like to join me in the shower and he is more than welcome to bite me anywhere he wants.

"Sure, Darlin'. Shower away."

Did you hear that? He didn't call me 'Kid'!

"Um, are you going to leave?" I reply steadily, simply confused at his apprehensive behaviour.

My words appear to shake him out of his trance and he clears his throat. Then I'm left to look while he marches out my bedroom and slams the door shut. What the heck was all that about? Did our relationship just shift to another level? No, that's not possible, is it? Our relationship is cemented at Kid/Protector, at least it was until he came bursting through my door and saw my soapy jugs, and rug. Wow, I think the builders have been and new cement has been laid.

Fuck the shower, I need to find Jubilee. I open my closet and I'm met with an open space and bundles of stale oxygen. I curiously seem to have misplaced my clothes, all of them. I open my drawers and I find a note ordering me to inspect my bed.

Hey, I recognise that writing. I'm going to kill her!

"JUBILATION LEE!"


	3. Ob La Di, Ob La Da

_**As usual a thank you to everyone that reviewed! I'm still feeling whorish though...**_

_**ElizaV - Yep, Jubes is just doing what any other good friend would do. **_

_**Bastet42 - Thanks! :) I'm hoping this chapter works as well as the last one.**_

_**Brit-Babe191 - You do have your uses you know! And I have a feeling by the time Jubilee is through the entire mansion will be thinking of only one thing.**_

_**bologna121 - Your wish is my command! Nice to know you're enjoying. :)**_

_**alexmonalisa - I'm so happy people are liking this story and oh yes, Mr Sex on legs alright. ;) There's more devious Jubes to come.**_

_**wolverette - Here you go! Brand new update! :)**_

_**Glykera - ;) **_

_**Ragamuffinsundrop – I hope your husband agrees with you. The sign of a great guy is a grunt and a growl. Did he grunt and growl? ;)**_

_**FritzlerKiss – Thank you. My poor Rogue is used to many horrors I'm afraid. XD **_

**Rewritten as of 21/06/2012**

* * *

**Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da**

_Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on bra! _  
_Lala, how the life goes on._  
_Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on bra! _  
_Lala, how the life goes on._  
_Well, if you want some fun, take ob-la-di-la-da!**  
**_

_**- **The Beatles _

* * *

I am going to kill her, no I really am. Logan's shown me how to kill people, so that's what I'll do; I'll kill my best friend and dance on her grave, maybe I'll make s'mores too. I'm going to kill Jubilation Lee! That is the only thought preventing me from turning around and fleeing back to the safety of my room.

I know I look fucking ridiculous and to make matters worse there is no sign of any of my clothes, I've even searched Jubilee's room, but it's as if they never existed and I'm going to kill her.

I tread carefully down the stairs attempting to avoid any accidental collisions or injuries; I would be extremely disappointed if I was to die before I got my hands on that crafty, thieving, little sunshine stealer. I'm sorry to spoil the party, but falling down the stairs while wearing your only pair of six inch heels at nine o'clock in the morning while dressed like a towel worshiper would not be my first choice for death.

Well, if I was sat down and asked myself, "So Marie, how would you like to die?" My answer would not be: "Oh, I would just love to fall down the stairs wearing my only pair of six inch heels at nine o'clock in the morning looking like a towel rack."

So there you have it, my death is not on the cards today, Jubilee's on the other hand is because I'm going to kill her!

* * *

"Have you guys seen Jubilee?" I call to Hank and Storm as I carefully navigate the tricky grass beside the rose garden. "Hey, I think I'm starting to get the hang of this. These stilettos aren't as bad as they seem."

"I believe she was -" Beast stops mid sentence and adjusts his glasses. "Oh my, you're wearing a towel, Rogue. What an interesting choice in this heat."

"You seem lost, Rogue. Has Jubilee been up to her old tricks again?" Storm remarks warmly, gazing toward me as she waters her plants.

"Yeah, she has. I don't know how I keep falling for her schemes." I reply, feeling rather dumbfounded by my own stupidity.

Hank chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah, We've all been there, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"You're not the one standing in a towel and a pair of death heels."

"I saw Jubilee over on the lawn earlier, near the trees." Storm smiles and compliments me on my choice of footwear. "Where did you get them from, Rogue?"

"I don't know actually, you'll have to ask Jubilee." I huff, painstakingly stomping away and keeping my fingers wrapped around the top on my fluffy towel.

* * *

I continue to stomp delicately across yet more damn grass in my search for Jubilee. Why did the Professor have to buy a mansion? Wouldn't a three story town house have worked just as well? How are you supposed to find anyone with so much ground to cover?

"Duck!" I hear someone holler far away, a rock hard baseball flying toward me and striking me on my fucking chest. It bounces cleaning off my right breast and I drop to me knees in defeat.

"Holy hell!" I cry mournfully, tears gathering in my eyes as I slide my hand under the towel and rub at my swollen, sore mould of flesh. "Why me?"

As I rub my breast in an effort to chase the steady, pounding sting away, a group of young mutants jog towards me and chatter amongst themselves.

"Wow, look at her go! You hit her in the tit, dude."

"I wasn't aiming for her tit!"

"What were you aiming for then, her head or maybe her pussy?"

"I... Nothing! I didn't see her! I didn't see any part of her."

"You didn't see the hot girl? That's harsh, man. She wearing a towel, how didn't you see the hot girl wearing a towel?"

"Hey, do you think it's going to drop off? Do you think her tit and the towel is going to drop off her?"

I suddenly find my wits and rediscover my voice, choosing to snap at the boys. "My tit is not going to drop off and my towel is staying put!" I yell forcefully, silencing the teenage crowd and seriously, how can my day get any worse?

"What's goin' on here?" I hear a gruff voice demand and oh my God, my life is now over.

Logan pushes his way to the front of my pubescent audience and arches an eyebrow as I continuously massage the affected area on my chest.

"We accidentally hit her with the ball." One boy offers as an explanation and I could kiss him for saving the last shred of reputation.

"No, he hit her in the tit with the ball!"

"Yeah, how could you hit the hot girl in the tit? And I still want her towel to fall off."

"I told you I didn't see her!"

"Enough!" Logan barks in a booming tone and glares at each boy with a fierce look that even scares me. "Every last one of you punks owes me twenty-five laps. Now move it!"

The group of boys, including a quiet Jimmy, sprint away terrified, almost making me feel incredibly guilty. The word you need to pay particularly close attention to here is 'almost.' For those of you that have never had the opportunity of being hit in a delicate area by an extremely hard object, guess what? It hurts!

"You okay, Darlin'?" Logan grunts in my direction, not commenting on my dress sense, though his eyes are making themselves at home on my chest area.

I stop rubbing and gulp, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yes, I'm peachy. I get hit in the breasts with balls all the time. I'm always getting hit with balls that aren't attached to anything."

What is wrong with me? I can't believe I just said that!

Logan raises an eyebrow and snorts at me. "That's a talk for another time." He chuckles, slipping his hands in his pockets and sighing. "Look, about earlier."

"Please just forget about it, okay? Forget about everything that's happened today because I'm going to die if you ever mention it again." I explain in a rush, feeling red faced over my earlier comment and actions.

"Okay." Logan nods, scratching his stubble and frowning. "Any reason why you're dressed like that?"

Saving my blushes for another time, I shake my head and remain silent.

"Marie, I don't want you out here like that." He growls, looking me up and down, before settling his stern gaze on my face. "It ain't right."

A pout descends on my face and I huff at his words. "I'm wearing a towel, Logan. Don't be such a stuck in the mud." I sigh, standing to my feet and meeting his harsh glare. "I'm not doing this for attention; I just really need to find Jubilee. And what are you saying exactly, I look horrible in this towel and these shoes?"

He shakes his head and his darkened eyes slide away from me and brush over the grounds. "Find her, then get inside and change. I need a goddamn beer." He grumbles, stalking away from me.

"What about your class?" I call after him, patting my sore breast with a crinkled brow.

"They'll be here when I get back, but you'd better not be." Is Logan's dangerous response, never once turning to face me, yet I still hear the warning his voice carries.

I watch his retreating form with a bundle of hope growing in my heart. He's taken to lecturing me before, but never when his eyes have been cuddling up to my breasts. There's change in the wind and I can't wait to tell Jubilee.

* * *

"At last, I've found you. There you are!" I beam, towering over my friend as she sits under the oak tree and lazily flicks through her magazine.

"How's Logan's baloney hanging, Chica?" Jubilee smirks, not bothering to drag her gaze away from her Cosmo.

"Are you being serious? I tried to shower; I was attacked by a giant spider. I'm bruised, and no it wasn't Logan. I fell into my shelf and a wall! Then after people see me cowering naked, I find all my clothes are missing and there's a note from you!" I complain, although the anger is replaced by mild irritation. "You let Bobby steal my shower time away from me, you made sure I walked into a world of embarrassment, I'm stumbling around in a towel and my boob hurts!"

Jubilee's glanced up at me and frowns curiously. "Why were you showering with the Ice Boy? I thought you had a thing for the Wolf Man?"

I glower at her and howl in sheer frustration. "I was talking about Bobby the tarantula!"

"Oh, so you found him then?" She asks me calmly, fanning herself with her magazine and seemingly without a care in the world.

"Yes, I found him and it almost killed me!"

"Yeah, and?"

"He saw me naked." I whimper, slumping to the grassy ground beside her.

"Who saw you naked, Bobby the tarantula or Bobby the Dweeb?"

"_Logan!_" I screech to the heavens and hold my head in my hands. I am so close to giving up; this is such a mangled mess. "Logan saw me naked and now he's acting strangely. Just now when he caught me out there massaging my boob, he was grumpy and ready to tell me off for coming outside dressed like this." I give my friend a look. "And before you ask, a baseball hit me, which was why I was rubbing myself."

"Then it worked. I knew if I was sitting out here while Logan was pretending to teach his class, you would come storming out here to search for me and bump into him. He's seen you naked because of me and now he's freaking the fuck out. Hah, I'm brilliant!" She announces cheerfully, jumping to her feet. "Now it's time for phase two."

"What worked, Jubilee? Nothing has changed at all." I moan and groan angrily, violently attacking the defenceless daisies with a swipe of my hand.

"Sure it has. Mr. My Body Is a Temple won't see you as a kid now he's seen you in the buff. He's becoming all high and mighty with you out there because he's looking at you, Chica, and he likes what he sees."

"Shit, Jubilee. You had this all planned from the beginning didn't you?" I demand to know, and my naughty best friend grins and nods her head. "Well, thanks a lot because now he's scared of me!"

"Pfft, he's not scared, he's dumb." She replies scathingly and claps her hands together. "I bet he couldn't take his beady eyes off you in that towel getup."

"Logan doesn't have beady eyes and yes he could because he took off! He chose beer over me and can you blame him? I'm deranged and it's all your fault!"

"It's not my fault Lover Boy has beady eyes and a thing for beer." Jubilee grumbles, holding her hand out to me. "

"He's never going to be my lover, Jubes. It just won't work, so why don't we give up now? We've done enough damage to my reputation."

"What reputation?" She snorts, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.

"For crying out loud, I need my clothes back." I sigh, daring her to refuse my request and brushing the towel free from grass. "Then I can start making things right with Logan again."

"You don't need to be wearing clothes to talk to Logan." She snickers, reaching for her gum in her pocket. "And anyway, I gave your clothes away. They're no more, please say a few words for your ugly clothes, Roguey."

Okay, now I'm really going to kill her. "What did you do with my clothes?"

"I gave them to the Salvation Army."

"Why would you do that? I can't walk around in this towel for the rest of my life. Oh no, you idiot, Logan's going to end up killing me. He told me to go get changed and how can I now? You banished all my clothes, my reasonably priced, but beautiful clothes."

"Charity begins at home, Roguey! Just remember not to be a selfish lover when the time comes. And it gives us a chance to go shopping, Chica! Shopping, shopping and shopping!"

I watch Jubilee bounce up and down excitedly like Tigger on crack and I massage my temples. "I'm not going shopping with you, you'll probably dress me like a hooker flavoured clown and auction me off to Logan for a case of beer."

"As if I'd do that," Jubilee smirked, as she hooks her arm around mine. "But I'll buy you some new clothes and lend you some of mine for the day. We'll hit a bar downtown, too."

"Fine," I groan, half-annoyed at my stupid self for giving in so easily. "But any funny business and I'm going to murder you in cold yellow blood. Just don't get me too drunk; you know I can't handle getting drunk."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Chica." She replies, her eyes twinkling in the bright sunshine.

I do trust her; she is my best friend you know. Yes, I really do think I trust her and if I keep repeating that to myself maybe I will actually start believing it by the time we reach the shopping mall.


	4. I've Got A Feeling

_**Here's an enormous thanks to the following guys that reviewed and made me grin happily: wolverette, Brit-Babe191, I'mYourChemicalRomance, ElizaV, alexmonalisa, soon2Bme and jackmansgrrl (great name and nice profile picture!) Also Glykera, the German, Ragamuffinsundrop, Kirawolf and Puma. **_

_**Also a thanks to those adding this fic to their favourites: hunterjumpertwilightfan, I'mYourChemicalRomance and jackmansgrrl. **_

_**Oh, and all the chapter titles are Beatles songs because the Beatles rule the world. They really do, at least they rule my world. :D**_

_****_**Rewritten as of - 22/06/2012**

* * *

**I've Got A Feeling**

_I've got a feeling, a feeling deep inside - The Beatles_

* * *

"I'm drunk and _really _drunk." I declare rather unrepentantly because I'm drunk, I'm _really _drunk. You have no idea just how drunk I am and all I can is I'm drunk and drinks make you drunk.

Tonight has been by far the most fun I have had in days, months, even years. There's no Logan to look at until my eyeballs have been roasted by his sizzling muscles and dangling body parts, I don't need to be embarrassed my breast is bruised by a flying ball and it's all because I'm drunk.

"You don't say, Roguey." Jubilee chirps with amusement, opening the passenger door for me to slide onto the concrete ground face first in a fit of giggles. "Oh and Shh! You're going to wake the whole mansion up."

"Why do you care?" I mutter into the soft, lovely warm texture of the concrete because I'm highly drunk, just drunk on happiness and tequila martinis, tequila slammers, tequila jello shots and everything lathered and drowned in tequila.

"I don't care," She shrugs, paying the driver and appearing surprised when he hurtles his cab away from us at great speeds. She holds her hand out to me. "Wow, what was that about, Chica? He was in a hurry."

"Now I don't care because I'm drunk," I mumble, eventually taking her hand and stumbling to my drunken feet.

"Then I don't care either." Jubilee replies, twirling me around and we both break down into a sea of giggling and hilarity. "You really went for it tonight, Roguey. I swear I died when you fell off the table and kissed the floor like it was Wolvie."

I frown and scowl and frown a little more until I can remember what she's talking about. "No, no, no." I grumble, taking her chin in my hand and shaking her head for her. "That was dancing, Jubie Jubes. I was dancing and when I left the table that was a move that dancers call a dance move."

"Whatever you say, Tequila Queen!" She snorts, removing my hand and leading me along the driveway. "And that was a total _Coyote Ugly_ moment when you were up on the bar and doing that epilepsy parody. You were throwing some wild shapes when you fell over again."

"No, I didn't fall over, it was a dance of sorts because I'm drunk and if I'd fallen over I would know. But dancing is a combination of moves you would be happy to perform in front of your grandparents. What I did tonight was not dancing... Gyrating? Yes, and thrusting, don't you dare forget the thrusting." I ramble slightly, tripping over my own words and my feet.

"Once again, whatever you say," Jubilee sing-songs as I struggle to step inside the mansion without losing a foot. "I also didn't know you could chug Tequila like that."

"I don't know if I like tequila but I drank lots and lots of it tonight." I think out loud tiredly, wandering over to the stairs and beginning to crawl. "But do you think tequila likes me, Jubes?"

"Aw, man. Tequila loves you and your curves, Roguey. She's Logan in disguise."

"I would drink Logan like that, I really would. And I'd chew and lick on him too. I'd do anything and everything with Logan. I want to suck on his parts and make babies with his dangling Yoda."

"I bet you would," She smirks softly, dumping our oodles and odd number of bags to the floor in a bedroom I call my own. "This is your stop, Girlfriend."

I shuffle inside my room and hug the door frame for much needed support. Maybe I overdid it ever so slightly? I swear to my lovely, luscious God I'm seeing three Jubilees as she waves and skips away. I have definitely fallen head over heels in love with tequila tonight. She makes me feel like I could march straight to Logan's room and hop on his ding dong to rock the night away. But alas, I couldn't reach his bedroom without breaking my neck on a plant pot, so I stay put inside my spinning room of drunkenness.

Taking a shaky step or two, I keep eyeing my bed eagerly; of course sleep is the answer because it's always the answer when you have a drunk brain and your ideas involve doing a high sequence of gymnastics to close the distance between yourself and the mattress of love.

Damn it! I never actually make it to my destination and that means tequila loves me a little too much because I'm spread eagle on the carpet with my mouth hanging open and a snore threatening to divide and conquer the mansion at any moment.

"This could work," I tell myself with a gentle sigh and surrender my urgent need for a cosy bed. "I'll sleep here. I can sleep here with tequila breath."

My eyelids slowly drift closed and I exhale sluggishly, and pray to all that's holy and as drunk as I am that I don't spew during my sleep. "I'm drunk and I'll sleep right here."

Suddenly a few word cut through my proposal for sleep like a knife to melted butter. "No, you won't."

My hazy eyes fly open and I spot a beautiful man frowning at me with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Hallelujah, praise the Lord, what a dream! I should really drink tequila more often. "If tequila made dreams, that towel should slip." I whisper heatedly. "Marie I-Can't Pronounce-My-Middle-Name-Right-Now wants to see your junk and I'll look until I'm -" I blink and blink again. "I can't think of anything witty at the moment."

"This ain't a dream and you're that loaded on booze I'd better forget about lightin' a cigar around you. My goddamn fireman outfit ain't arrived yet."

"When it does, will you wear it for me, Logan?" I beg him graciously and focus on memorising every inch of his pleasing to the eye torso.

"You're a hell of a drunk, Darlin'." Logan snorts in slight amusement, his hand travelling over his mutton chops.

"That's perfect, just stand there all night and I won't even ask you what you're doing in my bedroom because that would be rude of me when I'm looking."

"This is _my_ room." He counters gruffly and raises an eyebrow at the look of confusion etched on my face. "You know what that means? My ass sleeps here."

"That's nice." I answer him, clumsily climbing to my knees and struggling to make the transition to my feet. "I think Jubilee forgot what room I kept my ass in."

Logan grunts and watches me with the shake of his handsome head. "Need help 'fore you do yourself some damage?"

"No, no, I'm good. I'm always good. I just need something to hang onto."

_For everybody reading this story of passionate woe, I apologise profusely for what I'm about to do. I have no idea what came over me that night and my mouth stumbled further into the pits of embarrassment the longer I stayed in Logan's bedroom._

_Let's just say drunken logic is a bitch and so is my mouth! Oh, I'm cringing just thinking about it now. I thought I would never live this moment down, but I almost did. But as long as I'm alive, this speck in time when I'd been beaten about the head by a bottle of tequila was my downfall and Logan's towel's too. _

I grumble and grouch, grappling with the nearest object to help haul my drunken bottom to my feet when I almost fall. Suddenly I'm rewarded with a towel in my lap for my efforts and a growled groan of deep pleasure. The towel is damp and I'm hanging onto his –

"Hail Mary mother of Joseph!" I squeal, letting go of the engorged length and staring slack jawed at the slice of feral history. His cock is older than me and my grandparents, which makes it wrinkly for a reason.

Oh God, what would my Sunday school teacher say if she could see me now? No, who cares about that. What would my Mama say?

I kneel there with the overwhelming urge to say something, anything. I need to utter some words of encouragement or slip in an apology somewhere. "Good for you, Logan." I smile, slapping his thigh and nodding my head. "You're one of the boys."

What in hell! What am I saying? I can't congratulate him for having a thing! Right now I need to stop talking. Wait a damn moment; did it just wink at me? He hasn't said anything yet and his penis is winking at me.

Quick, Marie. Say something else before he thinks you've lost your mind and need a straightjacket and a padded cell to call home and high fashion.

"I really thought it would be a lot bigger than that."

No! No, I didn't just slap those words on Logan's snake without even thinking. He growls and I scarper on my hands and knees before he can kick me out his room. I'm going to find a corner to curl up and die in. An ungrateful, brat of a girl like me just doesn't deserve to live when she insults Wolverine's cock.

* * *

"Hey, you're up early, Chica. Did you have a fucking frenzied night of ecstasy?" Jubilee questions in a rush, winking at me teasingly.

That wink only serves to remind me of last night and I could easily kill her for doing this to me. "You," I cry in an accusatory tone. "How could you do this to me when I'm supposed to be your best friend?"

"Are you trying to say he turned you down, Rogue? Wait 'til I get my hands on Mr. Trouser Snake! I'm going to rip him apart with my bare hands and feed his withered stump to the X-Men in a cherry pie topped with cream!"

"Logan didn't turn me down, Jubilee! He didn't even get the chance! Oh my God, I bet he's going to hate me after everything I said last night. I think I'm sick in the head." I whisper morosely, tears building in my sleepless eyes.

"No, don't cry, Bestie. Come over here and tell auntie Jubilee all about it." She responds calmly, slurping on her soda and holding out her arm to me.

I wander over to her and sniffle, great tears rolling down my worried cheeks. "It was a disaster from beginning to end." I explain hurriedly, hugging her and wishing the memories would leave my grizzly mind. "You tricked me into thinking that was my room and everything went crazy after that."

"But how come?" Jubilee asks me, rubbing my back. "That should have worked because it was perfect."

"I saw him naked, that's why. And then I couldn't shut up."

"Whoa! His cock should have been bouncing about with happiness, Roguey. He's an ass if he didn't like all those compliments you were giving him."

"That isn't exactly how it played out, Jubes." I sigh and wish everything had skipped along differently. I'm left feeling like I caught the Golden Snitch and then dropped it down Logan's pants only for the energetic ball to cause havoc with his manly parts. "But I looked and loved what I saw."

"I still don't understand." My friend grumbles, pulling away from me. "I want to know what happened!"

"I saw Logan naked. He wasn't wearing any clothes and I was kneeling in front of him." I tell her, my voice low and barely above a whisper.

"You go, Chica! It's only fair you get to see his nuts. He saw your tissue box and jiggling bongo drums and now you've seen each other in the nip!"

"Not so loud!" I hide my flushing face in my hands and I'm utterly ashamed as I work my way up to telling her what happened next. "Jubes, there's a huge problem."

"There's no problem too big for Jubilation Lee." She states boomingly, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, there damn well is and this one is a whopper of biblical sized proportions. You see, I pulled his towel off."

"Roguey!" Jubilee squeals with an explosion of excitement and she hugs me in congratulations. "And I thought Wolvie was the animal. This goes to show it's always the quiet ones you have to watch when you step out the shower."

Still hiding my face, I'm desperate to ask for my friend's help because I don't know what to do now I've messed everything up. My tongue is a stinging nettle housed in a nest of hornets and I wish I had never gotten drunk last night. "I swear it was an accident when I was trying to stand up and then I said something I really shouldn't have. My mind slipped, just like Logan's towel."

"Whatever it was, I'm sure he'll understand. He's the Wolverine." She shrugs, not taking me seriously at all.

"I told him I thought his cock would be a lot bigger than it actually was." I softy utter in a thoroughly ashamed tone of voice and strangle the scream threatening to break. "How is he ever going to understand why I did that? Even I don't understand!"

Jubilee's eyes triple in size. "You did what now, Roguey?"

"I told him I thought it would be bigger!"

She chokes on her soda and laughs herself silly. "You told him you thought it would be bigger? It, as in his manly sized, honking great slab of throbbing feral?"

"Yes," I whimper dismally and begin to sniffle. "And before that I congratulated him for having one and being one of the boys."

"Why was he flaunting it in your face anyway?" She questions, sighing and dropping a blob of gum in her empty soda can.

"He wasn't flaunting anything. He just missed his towel and wanted it back."

"Well, well, well, I totally love this bump in the road." Little Miss Sunshine smirks, bouncing up and down. "I vote for cupcakes!"

My gaze snaps to my hyper friend and I sigh. "What are you talking about cupcakes for?"

"We bake Wolvie loads of cupcakes!" She comments passionately, hopping to the fridge. "I think it's an awesome idea. A few sprinkles and the Sex Machine will forget last night ever happened."

"I insulted his manhood, Jubilee! I don't think a cupcake is going to make him forget. And anyway, Logan's doesn't eat cupcakes. He growls in the face of cupcakes, he says they're for sissies and whipped bitches."

"Huh, well." The Yellow Cupcake Crusader huffs, opening the fridge door and then snapping it closed again. "What about muffins?"

_Bang, bang, bang. _

That is the sound of my head repeatedly hitting the wall. Please shoot me now and put me out of my misery because this has got to be the worst start to a week I have ever had. My mouth ran away from and so did my common sense. I don't deserve to even be in the same room as Logan, let alone keeping his bed warm as he thunders down upon me with his heavenly cock. All in all, my life sucks right now.


	5. Please Please Me

_**As per usual I need to say a huge thank-you to those reviewing! You guys have made my day: alexmonalisa, ElizaV, Brit-Babe191, wolverette, Soon2Bme, Bastet42, Alata Fuin, hamgsrship and TakumaAngel :) **_

_**Okay, so after the last chapter I got slightly stuck. So, it took me a little while to come up with this. As an apology, this chapter is slightly longer and rather um, wacky in places. You have officially been warned. And no, I still refuse to label this as crack, even when this story becomes even crazier in later chapters.**_

**Updated and rewritten as of: 7/7/2012 and it almost killed me!**

* * *

**Please Please Me**

_I don't want to sound complaining__  
__But you know there's always rain in my heart__  
__I do all the pleasing with you,__  
__It's so hard to reason with you__  
__Whoa yeah, why do you make me blue?_

_-The Beatles_

* * *

Damn it, I've gone and wet the bed, with tequila that is. And I'll also say 'shame on you for thinking that I'm a bed wetter!' Really, I don't ever remember wetting the bed. Okay, so I'll be honest here and say not one cute, little flick of trouble we have caused this week is my fault. This can be explained with a single terrifying word that brings the male population to tears: Jubilee.

"Jubilee, don't you think we've had enough? I can't see straight. How can I go look at Logan again if I can't see straight?"

"No!" She cries dramatically, staggering about on her feet and appearing pensive. "There's no such thing as too much. And you've spilt most of that bottle anyway!"

"I have not." I groan defensively, squatting on the floor and trying to find my bearings. I lost them in this messy room and if I move, they'll be crushed. "We drank most of the bottle. That's why I can't see straight."

"You need to suck it, Roguey. Go on and suck it."

Now that there is the reason why Logan is probably scared of me right now, and there is also a great number of reasons why that sentence is just plain wrong. The first reason being the most obvious; Logan is not the one begging me to do it.

"I meant suck the booze out the mattress, Chica. Jeez, I see that look on your face. You're thinking of him again, the man with the feral rod." Jubilee accuses me, a teasing glow about her.

"I'm not sucking anything from a mattress." I reply huffily.

"But you'll suck something _on_ a mattress?"

I hug the bottle to me and lift my woozy head and hiss. "Shut up! You're making me sound like a sex loon with a fetish for mattresses! And I don't like this drink. Was it expensive?"

"Heck yeah, this is expensive stuff." Jubilee scolds me, pointing at the half empty bottle. "Paris Hilton drinks this, Roguey! Paris Hilton!"

Well, I guess that's an endorsement if I've ever heard one. If Paris Hilton drinks this particular brand of tequila then it must be good. Of course Paris Hilton made a sex tape, lost her pet Chihuahua in her own house and I'm surprised her fat head hasn't floated away like a barrage balloon while she was overshadowed by the Kardashian's. But as Jubilee quite happily points out every time I mention this, she's blond, rich and can spend all day shopping on Rodeo Drive.

"I'm not sucking the mattress, Jubilee, or Logan. The only thing I'm sucking is more drink from this bottle."

"I bet you would suck Logan off if he asked you to." She replies shrewdly.

"Yeah, but he's not going to ask me, is he. And what's the point in getting drunk again?" I groan, feeling a wave of sickness slosh over me as I gulp a generous tipple of tequila.

"It's helping us with the brainstorming, Stupid. I can't believe you don't like this tequila."

Is Jubilee actually calling me stupid? I'm not the one displaying those worrying symptoms over Paris Hilton. At least my attraction to Logan is understandable because he's handsome and I love to look at every inch of him. Paris Hilton has nothing on my Logan!

"I insulted his pride, Jubes. I don't think we can do anything to turn back time." I sigh, ready to throw in the towel and hope I get to drool over Logan's naughty parts again.

She hums for a moment and appears deep in thought. I savour the peace and quiet until she sparks to life suddenly. "I still say the way to guy's heart is through his stomach."

"No cupcakes!" I moan in an irritated way and gesture wildly. "Or muffins, cookies, scones, candy apples, donuts, rice crispy squares, tarts, pies and definitely no giant sponge cake with yellow icing, eight tiers, an assortment of candy decorations, sprinkles and bright pink candles that shoot multi coloured flames ten foot in the air!"

"I thought that was one of my best ideas." She pouts, looking rather down in the dumps.

"Look, I'm sorry, Jubilee. I know you're only trying to help, so please just ignore my food rant. I've been drinking and I always think of food when I've been drinking. Like I wanna lick chocolate frosting off Logan's tones abs. There, see?"

"Yeah, I know, Roguey. But you're not forgiven until you snatch Wolvie by his lusty parts again and keep hold of them!"

"Wait, where are you going?" I call after my best friend, watching her skip away from my bedroom and down the hall in a sea of sunshine.

"I'll be back!" Jubilee replies with a poor impersonation of Arnie's _The Terminator_.

Thirty minutes later, I heave a sigh and drop the empty bottle to my side. "What took you so long?" I criticise her when she bursts through the door and leaps on the bed.

"I thought you Southerner's were supposed to be warm and accommodating?" Jubilee scoffs, bouncing on the bed and landing on her knees. She glances over at the door again. "Come in and bring it with you!

"I'll be 'warm and accommodating' when Logan is mine. And what the hell are you - On second thoughts, I really don't want to know what you're doing now."

"Come on, Jimmy! We don't have all day," Jubilee shouts, waving her arms crazily in the air. "Roguey's going to pass out soon and I want to get this done."

Leech marches in, struggling with a giant whiteboard and a long pointed stick. I manage to jump up without ripping anybody's clothes away this time and help him carry the colossal stick, leaving him to place the board down and leave dents in my carpet.

"You can leave now." Jubilee says moodily, snatching the stick away from me and pointing at Leech. "Go on, go! We have important work to do."

"Where's my tip?" Jimmy asks cockily.

"I'm not tipping you!" She rages when he tries to steal the stick away. "Now shoo, get out!"

"Jubilee, give him a tip." I sigh to my best friend, feeling sorry for Leech. "He did carry those things all the way from whatever classroom you stole them from."

"Why do you always do that?" She groans angrily, relenting and tossing a bunched up five dollar bill at the annoying boy's head.

Leech thanks me and hightails it from the room, leaving us alone to plan, plot and drown our devious minds with schemes revolving around Logan's other head and his muscular buttocks.

"Do what? I haven't done anything."

"Act nice, you're too nice for your own good and guys like Logan are going to rip your pussy to shreds if you're nice all the time. You'll be left without a vagina, Rogue."

"How can you act _too_ nice?" I snort at her, folding my arms stubbornly. I refuse to believe I'm being 'too nice'. "That's rubbish, Jubes. Logan loves that side of me and I know he'll love my vagina too."

She drags a hand down her face and grumbles. "We're wasting precious time, Chica. And I won that argument, by the way. Logan doesn't do nice."

"No, you didn't and you're wrong. He does do nice!"

"I won it, I'm right and we need to brainstorm are lives away." Jubes grins, leaning the enormous white board against the wall and producing a marker pen from her pocket. "And a shot of tequila every five minutes is going to help us come up with so many ideas; our brains are going to explode. Look, I even have a new bottle! This is so simple; I can't believe I've only just thought of it."

"Oh God, Jubilee, more tequila? I think you're trying to kill what little thoughts I have left." I mutter, rubbing my aching temples and trying to concentrate on the task at hand. "But what about the stick, what's that for?"

"Isn't it obvious?" My best friend smirks, swinging the stick about. "It makes me look damn important."

* * *

_**Forty-eight minutes and thirty-two seconds later...**_

"So, what have we got so far?" I ask her, fighting against gravity and desperately trying to sit up and take a quick look at the whiteboard.

"Um," Jubilee gazes numbly at the whiteboard from her position on the floor. Apparently she's just resting though. No, Jubilee isn't drunk. She's only resting or so she says. "Betty Boop."

"Betty Boop?" I repeat after her, my brow scrunching like a ball of sandpaper as I struggle to use my brain. "Wasn't she a hooker or something like that?"

"No, she was from Brooklyn, Chica!"

I blink at my friend and wonder what that has to do with being a cartoon hooker. Oh, damn Paris Hilton's tequila. It's a plague on humanity and the sobriety of us impeccably behaved Americans.

"Okay then, what else?"

Jubilee squints at the whiteboard and cheers when she reads the next words without complaint. "Jessica Rabbit. You have to act like her because she's sexy."

"But she's all legs, I can't compete with her." I complain miserably, pulling up my pants leg and flashing Jubilee a patch of my skin. "See? My legs are ugly!"

"You have legs, Jessica Rabbit has legs, and you can compete. Just ask Wolvie, he has legs too and he'll agree with me."

Jesus, I really like the sound of that. Sure, I'll ask Logan, maybe I can corner him in the kitchen and flash him different parts of my body until he pounces on me and we make sweet love, while Storm is cooking dinner and complaining about Logan's large appendage getting in the way.

"Oh yeah, and Sandy," Jubilee adds, finally sitting up straight and looking around the room. "Hey, where the duck's my stick?"

I drunkenly peer at my drunken friend and chew on the inside of my cheek. I didn't know this was going to involve wildlife too. "Sandy? Who the heck is Sandy and what's that about a duck?"

"I'm talking about Danny and Sandy, Chica. You know the guys who dance it up on _Grease_ while they warble?" Jubilee begins to crawl across the carpet searching for her stick. "Leather pants. At the end of the movie Olivia Newton-John wears leather pants and rocks them like a hot biker chick."

"So I need to wear a pair of leather pants and sing about ducks while I dance in front of Logan flashing my legs?" I tap a finger to my lower lip and slide deep into thought. "Do you think Logan would like seeing me in leather pants?"

"He liked you enough to flaunt his one eyed trouser snake at you, Roguey." She grins at me, ducking her head under the bed. "I can't find my stick, but guess what I did find?"

"What?" I answer her, growing suspicious with a dash of nervousness thrown in for good luck.

"Oh, yeah, we've got vodka! We've got vodka! We've got vodka! Holy crap, I think I'm going to be sick." Jubilee squeaks, stumbling to the bathroom in a flurry of activity.

Well, it looks like there's more Vodka for me then.

* * *

_**Twenty-six minutes, ten seconds and numerous trips to the bathroom later...**_

"Hey," I grimace gently, slipping yet another shot of Vodka down my nimble throat. "This stuff isn't so bad now. I think I'm finally getting the hang of pouring paint stripper down my throat and not puking it up again. Hopefully that'll come in handy when I blow and drink Logan dry."

"Ugh, I can't talk about sex right now," Jubilee groans faintly into the ruffled carpet. "I need to go to bed… Alone."

"Hah, good luck with that." I mock her, licking my lips and shuddering. "I've changed my mind. This vodka isn't good at all. I can feel it jumping about in my tummy."

Jubilee rolls over and stares at me. "Where's my stick?"

"I don't know. Didn't you lose it?"

"No wait, I know where it is!" She sighs, shaking her head at her own stupidity. "I can't believe I left it in the toilet."

"Why would you leave it inside the toilet?" I question her huffily, close at her heels and following her to my bathroom. "I don't understand your brain, Jubes. It's a toilet and that's a stick."

"Well, there I was sitting on the toilet and I spotted the stick in the bath. I thought, 'What is that stick doing in the bath?' So I took it and I stuck the stick in the toilet instead."

"But – But why would you do any of that?" I fire back, puzzled beyond belief.

"I was trying to push your gloves further down the corner creeping in the toilet bowl," Jubes laughs airily. "I guess that green top of yours I shoved down there earlier was getting in the way."

My eyes widen and I sink lower until I'm perched on the bathtub. "You flushed my clothes down the toilet?"

"Not exactly, they wouldn't flush, so I poked them with a stick. I think they're stuck in the pipes somewhere." She pauses with a frown and picks up the stick. "And there was me thinking I'd done the folks of New York a favour by getting rid of those clothes the other day. Were you hiding them from me, Roguey?"

"No, I wasn't hiding anything. Storm returned them; they were in the laundry pile. Oh shit, what about Storm?" I whine, tucking my stark white hair behind my ears,

"This stick's not big enough to get her down the toilet, Chica. Have you seen the size of her ass lately? Whoa, the girl's got candy issues."

I slap a hand to my forehead and I don't even bother correcting her fool mouth. "Storm's going to want to know why the toilets blocked, Genius."

"Not my problem, I need to sleep." She shrugs, staggering away and leaving me alone with another mess she's created.

"Hey!" I scowl at her retreating back and jump to my feet. "What about my toilet?"

"Not my problem, Roguey."

"Yes it is, Jubey." I mock, grabbing hold of her wrist and stilling her. "Look, before you leave, at least help me with my bed."

"What's wrong with it?" Jubilee demands to know, glancing toward the damp mattress.

"I want you to help me flip the mattress because it's still wet and I don't want to sleep in a damp puddle of tequila."

"Okay, okay. Just stop complaining already, Chica."

We both wander over to my bed and fight with the single mattress. "Thank God for that," I utter tiredly when we finally flip it over and I'm no longer met with a drenched stain. "I think I can get some –- Jubilee, have ya lost your mind!"

"No, why would I have done?" She questions innocently.

I tug at my hair and shriek. "You just went and – Why did you do that?"

The girl shrugs, a simple smirk lighting up her face. "You said you didn't like the Vodka."

"I don't and my bed doesn't either! Fuck, Jubes. Where am I going to sleep tonight?" I stare sadly at my soggy mattress and drop my hands to my sides. "Jubilee?"

I search the room and come to the conclusion she either spontaneously combusted without a word or my friend ran away to bed now her terrible work is done.

* * *

_**A very tiresome and immensely hungry... No, ravenous hour later...**_

_Chop, chop, chop, chop. _I'm chopping, chopping, chopping vegetables as I chop them one-by-one, side-to-side and all in a line because I'm winning with my vegetables. Oh yeah, I love to chop, chop, chop and_ chop. _This is my destiny; I kill all veggies with a knife vengeance!

Then somebody handsome with feet like clouds quietly enters the kitchen and I hear a grumbled, rough and ready sigh. It's the same sigh I've heard many times over the last few years, but I'm still chopping because I'm a chopper on a mission. Hah! Hear my knife behead these cowering, cowhearted carrots.

"Marie, what the hell you doin', you seen the time? It quarter to three and you're playing with carrots." Logan's hot, gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine and he arches a bushy eyebrow.

"You're beautiful," I whisper, caught in a drunken trap and gripping the knife handle a little too roughly. Logan is absolutely beautiful. "And I mean everything I'm saying right now, because I'm of sound mind and stuff."

He gives me a look and cocks his head to the side. "Excuse me?"

My eyes widen and something tells me he doesn't think he's beautiful. Is Logan one of those men who hates his body image and needs to be told he looks like an asshat? "You're a bastard, Logan! That's what I said. You're a beautiful bastard and I wanna suck on your my boy lollipop."

"You're drunk again." Logan grunts disapprovingly, stepping inside the kitchen and shaking his head. "You got shit for brains, Marie?"

"Yeah, I have and it's all your fault!" I accuse him, wriggling my finger in his face. "See my finger? That's what you did in my face, but you were using something else and it was tiny!"

Logan rolls his eyes. "Really, cause I'm having a hard time believing that, Kid."

Then, like a strike of lightning, a thought ricochets off my brain and I snap my eyes shut. Oh yeah, I'm supposed to be pretending Logan and his wriggling wonder don't exist. Especially when I'm drunk!

"I'm ignoring you, Wolverine. Just like I have been for the last two days! I can't look, talk or drool over you ever again because I keep saying stupid things and if it happens again, I'm going to die. Die like these carrots! And if you're thinking I'm not orange enough, then I'll just slap on some fake tan and you'll be proved wrong!"

"Hell, Marie, your mind is shot through the booze. You're talking crazy."

"No, it's not!" I argue with him, snatching up the knife and returning to my concerned carrots. "I'm not crazy, I'm not! Now leave me to slay my carrots in peace."

Logan growls and his right hand catches hold of the stainless steel handle. "Just give me the knife before you lose a damn finger!"

"Will you let go! Logan, you're too close and it's making it very difficult for me to ignore you!" I howl furiously, pulling against his grip and being dragged back each time I win an inch.

"Last chance to do this the easy way, Darlin'. You ain't gonna win against me."

"What's the big, bad Wolverine gonna do? Flash me his John Thomas again? Well, I'd like to tell him I've seen bigger. Yes, sir-ree! B-I-G-G-E-R. Bobby Drake's is ten times the size and he has to wear special panties to contain it because it's larger than a flagpole!"

I yelp as Logan tosses me over his shoulder and dumps the knife in the sink along with my carrots and the chopping board.

"What, you don't like the way I clean up?" He smirks, patting my ass and carrying me out the kitchen.

"Hey, Logan! You're out of goddamn order!" I cry angrily, pounding my fists against his back. "I swear to God I'm going to — Whoa…"

My gaze is pinned on his perfectly clad ass in dirty, denim jeans. Jesus H Christ, that dirty denim is giving me dirty, filthy thoughts. I'm officially losing my drunken mind and I love it.

I don't even pay attention as he carries me off to wherever, because his ass is amazing. I would sell my own kidney on the black market to see those sculptures ass cheeks in all their glory. I bet his firm butt would make the perfect stool or bedside table.

Soon my happy ride has come to an end and he sets me gently to my feet and opens my bedroom door for me. "Go to bed and sleep the damn booze off," He commands, pointing to my room.

"But, Logan, I've wet my bed. We flipped it, and then Jubilee wet it. It's all Paris Hilton's fault, you see and I hate her for doing this to me."

"Who the hell is Paris Hilton? She a new student here I don't know about?" Logan growls, raising his trademark bushy eyebrow and making me wish he would raise something else entirely.

"Jubilee would hate you right now." I scoff, stepping in my room and wrinkling my nose. "Oh Lord! My toilet's leaking. It can't leak because I was going to sleep on the floor."

"What the hell you been doin' in here?" He demands to know, surveying the damage and looking lost for words. Why can't he lose his clothes instead?

"We were using our brains." I announce proudly with a beaming smile."Booze might have been involved, too." I hastily add when I spot the look of disbelief written on his face.

Logan whistles and sticks his hands in his pockets. "You don't say."

I frown and wave him away as I wonder how Jubilee could do this to me. "I'm still not talking to you, Logan. Go away."

"You sure as hell ain't sleepin' in here, Marie," He replies gruffly. "You're havin' my bed. No arguments."

"But, Logan -"

"No arguments." Logan interrupts me gruffly, grabbing my wrist and tugging me away from my room.

* * *

"Drink," The Feral of my dreams orders, handing me a glass of water and leaving me disappointed again. I sure as heck know what I'd like to drink. I'm also thankful Logan can't read my thoughts.

I screw up my nose and eye the glass with hatred. I'm not a great fan of water, even if its Logan water and Logan had given it to me because he's Logan and it's a Logan thing to do.

"It's for your own good, Darlin'. Drink up or you'll feel like crap in the morning."

Aw, he's being sweet again, even after I insulted his little Logan twice.

"Look, Logan, about what I said. I really didn't mean to say what I said and I promise to never say what I said ever again. That wasn't very clear was it? What I mean is, I really wouldn't want you to develop an infer... inferior... No, no, an _inferiority_ complex over its size because then you would be looking at others and comparing your size to theirs. That would be really tragic because no man can beat you. I mean look at you, you're gorgeous and you look fantastic in denim and you can pull of that wife-beater look and not many guys who aren't hardened criminals can do that. Sure, you could make it as a criminal. Maybe as a mafia boss or something and you would own dozens of strip clubs and all that money, but you wouldn't do that because you're nice. And you're always helping people and I would want to kill any woman pawing over those knee knocking muscles of yours. Your muscles make my knees knock, you know. Bobby could never do that and I don't know why I'm even comparing the both of you or your equipment, because it's not even in the same league, the same country, the same world or even the same universe! Look at you, Logan. You must drool at yourself in the mirror and think 'Whoa, I want to fuck myself'. So all I wanted to say is: Please don't listen to anything I say when I'm drunk. I don't know what I'm saying most of the time anyway, especially when I've been drinking. So, I'm really sorry for insulting your little Logan and I don't think it's little at all."

Logan shakes his head and chuckles. "What's comin' over you is the booze. Now stop talking and drink up." He responds with a sexy smirk.

"What's so funny? Didn't you hear what I said? Aw man, I don't have to repeat it all again do I? I can't remember what I said now, Logan!"

"Drink the goddamn water, Marie." He orders, handing me the glass and standing up.

"Fine, Wolverine. You're just lucky you're so attractive or I'd be using your balls as stress relievers. I'd squeeze them and listen to you cry."

"Yeah, course you would. You're gonna feel crappy in the mornin' and I'm kinda lookin' forward to it." Logan snorts, digging through his duffle bag.

"Mmm hmm," I purr drowsily, placing the glass on the bedside table and snuggling into the pillows. "I like the sound of your voice, it's comforting. Have you ever thought about working on a sex line? You know a sex chat line for women. You'd be good at that. You could make a fortune, I know I'd ring. Jubilee would too and I bet even Hank would phone you."

"Here, wear this."

I open my eyes and look at the t-shirt he's thrown on the bed. "Are you trying to get me naked?"

Logan looks amused for a moment and winks my way. "You'll be more comfortable in that. I'm gonna change in the bathroom."

Aw, what a shame. How could he rip his clothes off in the safety of the bathroom? I want to watch and look and watch some more! Am I starting to sound like a great pervert yet?

Sighing, I sluggishly undress myself, even throwing my underwear chaotically around the room as I drag the white t-shirt over my head.

Logan pads out his bathroom and steps straight onto my black lacy panties. They're not frumpy at all, Jubilee made sure of that. I own panties that I'd be proud to show Logan, do you?

He clears his throat and adjusts the dark sweat pants he's wearing; they must be uncomfortable to wear. Maybe they're chafing him. "Logan?"

"Yeah, Marie?" He responds his eyes pinned on the panties under his toes.

"Does that always happen or only when you're nervous?" I question him, leaning forward and almost toppling off the bed completely.

"Huh?" Logan grunts, checking his pants over with his eyes and sighing heavily.

"I mean, clearing your throat. It's a nervous habit, right?"

"I guess so," He mutters, dragging a hand through his unruly hair.

"You sound nervous, Logan. Are you nervous?" I ask him quietly, being overtaken with a yawn and sliding under the covers.

"No, I ain't nervous," The man snorts, switching off the light. The whole room is thrown into darkness, but if I squint I can make out Logan's outline. "Ain't never been nervous."

"I don't believe you and you can't sleep on the floor." I scold him, sitting up and hugging a pillow. "This is your bed!"

"I've slept in worse places, Darlin', so stop squawking and get some shuteye."

"Logan, it's big enough for us both to sleep in." I whine, knowing I'm driving him crazy with my words when he's trying to sleep. "Get off the floor!"

I hear him sigh and grumble under his breath. "No, damn it."

"But why not?"

"'Cause I said so, not shut it!"

My brow crinkles with confusion and I shake my head. "That's not a very nice answer, Silly."

"I never claimed to be nice. Go to sleep, Marie." He growls, turning on his side.

I huff and cross my arms around the pillow. "No, I'm not going to sleep!"

"Marie!"

"Logan!"

"Marie!"

"Logan!"

"Jesus Christ!"

"That's not my name and if you don't haul your ass into this bed, you stupid feral, I'm gonna come down there." I warn him, leaning closer to the edge of the bed.

"Go to fucking sleep, Marie!" Logan roars in the darkness and he almost hurts my feelings.

"Fine, you've asked for it. I warned you and you didn't listen to the drunken me. You only have yourself to blame, Logan."

I slide across the bed and peer down with my chestnut hair flowing downward in waves. It must be tickling Logan's face and there's still no sign of happy life, only growling. That saddens me, it really does. So I drop clumsily off the bed and hear an, "Ooff!" as I land on his middle.

"Logan, it's only fair you get the bed and I sleep on the floor, you know," I whisper in his ear and leave a trail of hot, boozy breath across his skin.

"No," He snarls, shifting his body.

"Then sleep with me!" I yell, throwing my hands in the air and suddenly frowning. "No wait, um, well, I uh, this is all the tequilas fault." I mumble, swearing to all that holy I'll never touch a sip of alcohol ever again.

"You need to get up." Logan groans, raising me off his body by my hips.

"Why are ya groaning? Hey, put me down, Logan. What is that hard thing? Whoa, is that what I think it is!"

"Marie!" He growls harshly, dropping me at his side and sitting up in a flash.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up… Unfortunately for me. Jeez, can't I catch a break once in a while? A girl does have needs, you know.

I kneel on the carpet and watch him climb into bed with eager eyes. "You gettin' in any time today?" He throws at me, lazing in the bed.

Okay, not exactly what I pictured in my mind, but you can't win them all, can you. So I clamber over the sheets and settle beside him.

"Listen up, Kid. If I have a nightmare, don't wake me; don't come near me and stay away. You hear?" Logan grumbles seriously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yeah, I understand. I'm not _that _drunk."

I have no intention of leaving him though, even if I get a claw in the chest for my trouble, I could never leave him stuck in one of his nightmares and about to be hurt again.

A silent forty-five minutes pass and I am now very, _very _drunk. Aw hell, the room is beginning to spin! Logan is asleep, the bastard, and I cling onto the bed and pray I won't projectile vomit over his face. This would have been the perfect opportunity to air our feelings, but oh no, he has to fall asleep. He can be really selfish sometimes!

Releasing a pent up sigh, I trace a hand softly over his face. "I wish you were mine, Logan, but it's never going to happen, I know that. But I'll never stop wishing." I whisper softly, snuggling into his side and finally closing my eyes.

As I drift away into my fluffy dreams brimming with puppy dogs, Logan, an engagement ring, Logan, a wedding, Logan, a honeymoon, Logan, a four poster bed, Logan, babies and Logan, I'm sure I hear him gruffly reply, "You've got me, Darlin'."

But no, I must have been mistaken, right? Logan doesn't think me _that _way, but I hope he will one day. I want to be the girl who has it all and a grumpy feral is at the top of my list.


	6. She's A Woman

_**As always I need to say a huge thanks to those reviewing: wolverette, ElizaV, melificent78, luvdatman, Bastet42, alexmonalisa, Brit-Babe191, ady-ell, RagamuffinSundrop, , LittleRin26 and VasilisaTheAngel. I really appreciate all the great comments, guys, please keep them coming!**_

**I'm getting there, really I am! – Updated and rewritten as of 31/07/2012**

**Also, I'm very sorry if I vanished for a while again. I was meant to tackle these updates and rewrites like crazy, but my skull collapsed and it's been raining in my cranium again. I have a mental illness for all who don't know. Here's me hoping if I throw that out there, you won't think I keep buggering off deliberately and leaving you hanging like this. But to return to my updating to see I'm smashed through to just over 600 reviews, wow! That has seriously made my night! Thank you all for reviewing and reading. I hope you love the newly improved chapter. **

* * *

**She's A Woman**

_She don't give the boys the eye__**  
**__She will never make me jealous_

_The Beatles_

* * *

My eyes flicker open and for a moment, one silly moment, I forget where I am. It really is a shame it couldn't have stayed that way because the memories of last night gallop toward me and I cringe in disbelief and embarrassment.

Aw man, last night! It was a tangled mess of tequila, rambles, carrots, my mattress and Logan. What is wrong with me? Why haven't I learned already that the Wolverine and booze don't mix when I'm the piggy in the middle? And I am a piggy; I'm a southern piggy with a melting heart that weeps for Logan.

Heck, wait a dirty damn minute. Logan's hairy arm is draped across my stomach and he's spooning me. Oh my God, I'm in Logan's bed, only wearing Logan's t-shirt and his arm is - Oh, the shirt I'm wearing has bunched up and is hugging my hips, and I'm flashing a rather intimate part of myself. A part of my body I would certainly not show in public, I would get arrested for indecent exposure for a start and Logan would probably kick my skinny butt.

I can live with flashing my ass at him though, especially when I can run around the mansion telling folks Logan is a sheet hog. I don't have an inch of the duvet, not an inch! How could he be so self-centered and greedy? I'm getting a draft up my particulars, but wow, he looks adorable when he's sleeping.

"Hey, that felt good, put it back," I whisper in mild disappointment, as Logan shifts next to me and his hand disappears from my middle.

Ugh, the things that fly from my mouth when I'm half asleep and being crushed under a rock named, 'Hungover and Dumb to Boot!'

"Sorry, Darlin',"' He snorts, his warm breath ghosting the side of my neck and sending shivers down my spine. "I've got a bunch of kids to kick around the Danger Room."

"Why so early?" I groan sadly, feeling half dead and ready for the grave. A noise captures my attention and I glance over my shoulder curiously. "You're doing it again; you're clearing your throat."

This is about me flashing my ass at him, isn't it? Guys, men, fellas! You can live with them and you can't accidently let your t-shirt ride up without them acting like you've stripped butt naked and created a dirty dance of love to perform on the dining table during Thanksgiving lunch.

My brow wrinkles and I shake my head at him. "You're selfish in bed, Logan." He gives me a look and I blush furiously. "I mean you hog the sheets and that isn't very manly."

"I'm all man," Logan smirks darkly, tossing the sheets over my nakedness. "And you can have the sheets, they're yours for now."

"Thanks," I whisper softly, cuddling the sheets to my chin. "But are you sure you're all man?"

I really don't know what's gotten into me. I think Jubilee is a bad influence; I used to be so sweet and now look at me. I'm playing games with the grizzly, grumpy Wolverine and his invisible issues. To be honest, I'm only searching for a wisp of banter before the day begins.

"Yeah, I'm pretty damn sure I'm all man." He grunts in amusement, rolling off the bed and stretching. "Talkin' of heads, how's yours?"

"It hurts," I mumble pitifully, my eyes creeping closer to his ever present bulge hidden snugly under his sweatpants. "I swear to God I'm never drinking again. And I don't dare talk about heads because I might say something dirty or stupid. In fact, my comment could be even worse and be both dirty _and _stupid!" I slide my hands over my scarlet face. "I'm going to shut up now."

Logan chuckles. "You'll always be dirty to me, Darlin'." He smirks, stalking to his bathroom and shutting the door.

Rolling my eyes, I sit up sluggishly and my poor head still spins from the after affects of that dastardly drink. Holy hell, I can't possibly still be drunk, can I? And where the heck did the word, 'dastardly' come from? Did I swallow a thesaurus last night? I wish I'd swallowed my tongue instead! Being close to Logan is a nightmare today and it was the same yesterday. My life is over.

I step shakily out from the bed and okay, I admit it, there may be a slight possibility I'm still drunk... A teeny, tiny bit drunk. How strong was that tequila last night? It must have been the vodka too; those evil liquor sisters have a lot to answer for!

Hmm, I wonder how Jubilee is feeling this morning? I'm truly hoping she has a raging headache and explosive diarrhoea, but maybe I should go check on her, we are friends after all. She can keep the diarrhoea issue to herself until I leave her alone though. I don't need anything else built of embarrassment tripping me up and making me fall in a humiliating heap at Logan's fine feet.

Yeah, Wolverine really does have great feet. I want to suck on his toes.

* * *

Okay, here's the problem. I'm receiving a large dollop of disturbing looks and it's making me feel self-conscious and like that whore bag Kitty Pryde. Maybe I should have dressed before I padded gently from Logan's room on a twisting sea of excitement and slight drunkenness?

I quickly decide I'm in grave need of panties and I change routes, walking to my room instead. When I'm four steps away from my door, guess who I have the pretty privilege to spot? No, you're wrong, completely wrong, it isn't Tom Cruise and Katie Holes playing kiss chase. It's even worse! Bobby Drake and Kitty Pryde are loitering in the hallway with faces that resemble matching sunburnt asses.

"Did you wake up feeling desperate this morning, Rogue?" Kitty taunts coldly, glaring my way with her cherry face. "I guess that's why Bobby's with me, he can't stand desperation."

"I woke up, that parts true. But what I fail to understand is why Bobby would choose a girl with a Baboon's ass as a face." I snap snidely, leaning against the wall. "I think there's something else too, what was it again? Yeah, that's it! Wouldn't that be the same Bobby who saw me naked in the shower the other day, right?"

Kitty whirls on her boyfriend and her face is a brightly, burning, blazing meat sack fit to be hogtied and hung on a spit roast as she wails at him. "Bobby, how could you!"

"No, Kitty, she's lying. I swear she's lying! You don't have a face like a Baboon's butt and I didn't see her naked in the shower, it was the bedroom!" Bobby yelps after his girlfriend, rushing after her. "No, I didn't mean it that way! She was hiding behind a sheet. Kitty, slow down!"

Oh no, what have I done? Wasn't it Bobby the Tarantula who saw me naked in the shower? Bobby the Ice Prick only saw me wrapped in the sheet, but I knew his beady little eyes were trying to see my bits and pieces. He's a damn pervert and I wish I'd slapped his face silly!

Whatever, this is stupid, I'm getting a draft through my nakedness and I need to pick out a set of sexy underwear. Something tells me Logan is slowly crawling to my side of the fence and I want to catch him before he breaks said fence with his weight or his temper. I get the feeling my favourite feral is an enemy of fences everywhere. Could you imagine him trying to climb up one with his adamantium skeleton? They would splinter and the wood would be terrified.

I tunelessly hum _All You Need Is Love_ and wander inside my room, only to come face-to-face with an ass crack. Wow, I really do think it's going to be one of _those_ weeks. You know, each day you see a flash of somebody's nakedness and then when the end of the week rolls in you're nursing a glass of whiskey and mourning the loss of your sight. Note to self: Too much frolicking around nakedness is not good for the soul.

"Um, excuse me?" I call out, startling the crack's owner. "You mind if I ask why you're in my bathroom fiddling about."

"The name's Mel and I'm the emergency plumber. Eighty dollars an hour and I'm yours, Baby." The stranger answers, standing to his feet and holding out his hand for me to shake.

"You were touching the toilet," I answer quietly, my nose wrinkling as I stare at his hand. "You should probably wash your hands if you want to touch me." I suddenly blush and wish the ground would swallow me whole. "I don't mean sexually either! As a Southern girl, I'm not overly sexual or sexual at all. Uh, I'd be surprised if my Mama ever had sex. Oh and I'm taken, kind of. I'm an almost girlfriend of somebody and he could kill you with his pinkie –"

"Yeah, your man is small from top to bottom, I get that. But I'm big everywhere and I want to know what you've been doing to your toilet, Missy. Do you treat it with respect?"

I blink at the madman and nod my head. "I treat my toilet with enormous respect."

"How's that so when you've been sprinkling the pipes with your misplaced, miserable and mismatched love, Little Lady? The Unusual Objects License is for the bedroom only and you've scored an own goal in your neglected bathroom. Your toilet's screaming, Love Button, can you hear its tortured screams, can you?"

I shake my head and shuffle forwards to gaze at my toilet. "It seems okay to me, only a little blocked. Which by the way wasn't my fault, it was my best friend, and she's crazy like you."

He throws his hands up dramatically and silently screams for thirty seconds. "You didn't hear that did you? Well let me tell you something, Poisonous Porcelain Person, your toilet's been screaming for its life all night. Call me crazy, call me out on my large dick, but don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I know toilets, Girlie Girl!"

"Uh, did somebody called Ororo call you out to fix the toilet?"

"Yeah, she did. And I told her too, she should be ashamed of the way you've treated this toilet. Its abuse I tell you, abuse! If I could take it to court, I would." Mel mutters to me, dropping to his knees again and kissing the plunger. "No wonder poor Gerald here spat all that water out."

"I think folks have sued for sillier things, not that I want to get sued. And you named my toilet, that's cute," I reply, taking a step back and almost overcome with the laughter twisting about my body like a six foot python named Giggles-A-Lot. "But kissing the plunger is just nasty." My eyes twinkle with naughtiness and I smile brightly. "Do you have a wife, a girlfriend, or toilet you're intimate with?"

"No," He answers over the noise of the plunger splashing inside the toilet bowl. "Why'd you ask, Puny Toilet Oppressor?"

"Because I have a great, great friend called Jubilee and she would love everything about you! She even gave her own toilet a nickname, its Revenge, and I love it so."

The plumber glances over his shoulder and seems interested. "I like the sound of her! What's your name?"

A crackling growl answers that question for me. "Rogue, her name's Rogue."

"Logan," I greet with a pale face, turning to face a scowling Wolverine. "I thought you had students to throw around and eat?"

He arches a shaggy eyebrow and frowns darkly. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Mel the Toilet Man and he's here to show me a few things."

"It's just Mel," The plumber answers, taking his job very seriously. "I'm here to fix the toilet and pick up a lady I like the sound of."

Logan turns his glare on me and his eyes flash with strangled fury. I watch him clench his fists and barely hold his anger in check, and I feel confused. What's gotten into him suddenly?

"I'm here because I'm not wearing any panties," I blurt out and instantly feel the full weight of embarrassment crash against me like a wild, seventh wave.

Why doesn't anything ever come out the way I want it to? Is my brain damaged or is it my personality? Maybe it's both and there's no hope for me at all!

"And that's all there is to say because I don't want to add anything else." I inform them both, crossing my arms. "I'm feeling a draft and apparently I'm a neglectful toilet owner. This really isn't my day again!"

Huffing, I shuffle over to my bedroom and hang my head as I search for a clean pair of panties. "How long is it going to take to fix?" I ask Mel with a sigh.

"A couple of hours at the most, Sauce Pot, but that carpet of yours is going to need ripping up and the mattress looks like it's fought with Gerald here."

"Hey, eyes up front, Bub!" Logan growls loudly, when I bend over to retrieve a stray sock. The feral turns to me with a simmering look."You done now, Darlin'?"

"I guess so, but what about my room? Where am I going to find a carpet and mattress from, Logan?"

"A store," He grunts, scratching his facial hair. "Now get to my room and put some damn clothes on."

"Okay, fine," I say, skipping to the doorway and waning at Mel.

"Wait up, Love Button!" Mel calls after me, handing me his business card. "Take that just in case you ever need your pipes checking. Remember I'm the eighty dollar an hour man and I'm smoking hot in the bathroom. Not too shabby in the bedroom area either." He adds, wriggling his eyebrows with little explanation.

Christ, what a hilarious, oddball creep! I can't wait to set him up with Jubilee and encourage her to go on a date with him. I hope she kisses him on the lips and that's all I can say. Plunger lips is a new craze and I know Jubilee will love it because she's craze crazy.

I smile at Mel and slide over the threshold of my bedroom. "I'll think about it," I respond, fluttering my eyelashes shyly and praying for jealousy to flutter my way.

Logan places a hand on the small of my back and guides me out into the deserted hallway. "Get your ass back to my room and put some damn clothes on." He growls, his left eye twitching.

"Whatever you say, Sugar." I declare kindly, a little sorry I've put him through this.

Sighing, I pat his chest and leave his side with my hips swinging seductively. Jubilee would be proud, I didn't have to hold a cupcake baking marathon and I think my plan actually worked for once! Did Logan seem jealous to you at all? Yes, yes, I think he did too!


	7. You Can't Do That

_**A huge thanks to all those reading, reviewing and adding this fic to their alerts and favourite! I really do appreciate it and I hope you continue to enjoy this story as much as I've loved writing it. **_

_**alexmonalisa - I can't decide if you're mad for eating a cake with brandy in it or mad for actually drinking the offensive brand. But the tipsy part sounds like fun!**_

_**ElizaV - Everyone is worse when they're hungover. When you're in that state your brain has gone into hiding and your booze coated tongue trips you up. **_

_**soon2Bme - You're right on both counts about the plumber!**_

_**Bastet42 - I was tempted to have a cat fight, but then decided heavy sarcasm was needed. Who the hell wants to fight when hungover? Haha! **_

_**TakumaAngel - I'm glad people agree the sentence was wrong. Talk about double meanings.I love double meaning sentences. **_

_**Starlight2twilight - Thank you, it's always nice to hear from a new reader. Oh, and because I'm nosey I checked out your profile and you don't like James Bond! Do you know how insulting that is to a Brit!? Nah, I'm just kidding. Now go watch a Bond film. **_

_**Ady-ell – Stay away from the Kinder Eggs! **_

_**McLoving Grey – Thank you! And yes, that was my evil plan. **_

_**The German – If I haven't commented on any of your stories since forever, then I'm an idiot. A huge idiot. I really need to catch up on your stuff! **_

_**RagamuffinSundrop – Thank you! **_

_**Dhh – I'm not really sure what to type without appearing rude. I don't necessarily think I wrote this story hoping for myself or the words to be taken seriously, but I thought that would be obvious to the many readers. And once again I need to point out everybody and their different tastes. If you don't find this silliness funny, somebody else will. And that is what this is: Silliness. I don't need to be told its silly, because that was my hope when writing this! I wanted it to be silly, light-hearted and fun. I also wanted the readers to see this as silliness and take it into their silly hearts. But I draw the line at my story being labelled as 'unreadable'. Oh no, the gloves will come off if I read anything like that again. That was rather silly of you using that word, wasn't it? **_

**Anyway, this chapter was finally rewritten and edited on 03/08/2012**

* * *

**You Can't Do That**

_I got something to say that might cause you pain__  
If I catch you talking to that boy again__  
I'm gonna let you down__  
And leave you flat_

_- The Beatles_

* * *

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not! Shit, that was only a practice. Yeah, I'm sure the fifth try will answer my question once and for all. Christ, I must be getting desperate if this is the only option left for me.

He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me...

"Rogue, those are my prizewinning roses!" An annoyed voice carries from the patio, footsteps sailing towards me with a heavy frown. But I don't care because the roses say Logan loves me!

"Hah, he loves me!" I leapt to my feet and skip around the beheaded flowers like I've just won a gold Olympic medal with Logan's boulders scratched into the precious metal.

"Rogue! I'm talking to you!"

"Hi, Storm. Sorry, Storm." I mutter absentmindedly, abandoning the mutilated and ravaged flower heads at my feet.

Ravaged? I know who I'd like to ravage. No, I want him to ravage me, take me in the back of his truck, the Danger Room, on the kitchen table, halfway up the stairs, against the wall, in the shower...

"Are you all right, Sweetie?" She asks softly, looking concerned for my sanity and sitting herself down on the bench.

"Oh yes, I'm fine, perfectly fine. The uh, roses, they helped me feel fine because I'm fine now. Yeah, fine and that means everything is great in my life and totally fine."

In the boathouse on the creaky wooden floorboards, the stables, in the middle of the woods, on his motorcycle, the pool table, in the swimming pool, on a shag pile rug alongside a crackling fire during the worst snow storm Canada has seen in over one-hundred years. In a kinky motel with a water bed in the shape of a heart, on the Statue of Liberty so I can scare my worst memories away and on a snow-capped mountaintop underneath a blanket of sparkling stars.

Storm sighs and her eyes glaze over with worry. "I received a very interesting phone call this morning and it wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation."

"You're lucky," I say, my imagination still pinging ideas through my sex cluttered mind. "Nobody ever calls me. Who did you talk to?"

How about in a gondola floating freely down the Venice canals, on a sand dune in the Arabian Desert or beside Mount Rushmore? Ooh, on the Hollywood sign, preferably the D, or under the cascading Niagara Falls. I'd love to be taken at the top of Big Ben, but positioned as far away from the bell as possible. I wouldn't want Logan to destroy the iconic clock tower; he might be accused of terrorism. And I love the sound it makes. It's all 'Dong, dong, dong! Hey London, it's 3pm and it's still raining'.

"A plumbing firm, one we've been friendly with for so long. I can't believe they don't want our business after yesterday. Apparently Mel had an accident while he was here."

I swing around and watch Ororo curiously. "Mel had an accident? What did he do, kiss a toilet and instead of getting a princess he's been struck with a tummy bug?"

"No," She answered dryly, an almost smile gracing her lips. "I really do mean an accident. He came into contact with a hard object."

"Oh. Do I know this hard object really well?"

Storm crosses her arms and I know she's puling the 'I'm your mother figure and you'd best tell me the truth' face. "It was Logan's fist. What's going on between you two? The last person he punched was that man in the queue at Dairy Queen."

I nod my head and sigh. "I remember that. We said we'd never take him to a place that crowded again, at least not until he could control his temper around the ice cream."

"Yes, but he lost his temper and attacked that man because you started crying, Rogue. If you hadn't cried and accused the man in front of us of hating Southern women who loved chocolate ice cream, they wouldn't have gotten into that fight and Logan wouldn't be banned from every Dairy Queen in the country."

"I was on my period," I mutter unhappily, Storm's words rubbing me the wrong way. I'd much rather Logan be rubbing me instead. "And that guy was rude to me, remember? He told me to shut my whining mouth and he took the last chocolate ice cream because he was greedy!"

"Rogue, Logan attacked him because he cares about you and I bet the same thing has happened again. I see the way he watches you sometimes and the way he looks after you. He attacked Mel because of you and I've spent over an hour on the phone attempting to talk them out of suing us." Storm explains, brushing a hand through her short, stylish shock of white hair.

I frown at that, thinking I've dragged the whole mansion into my mess. A plumbing business too! "They want to sue us? How come? Logan can be really sweet when he's not snarling at people or punching guys. Why would they wanna sue us?"

"And they want to report Logan for assault with a deadly weapon. It seems they think his fist packs more of a punch then it should."

"They can't do that!" I cry defensively, pacing in front of the bench."Can't you do something? Talk to them, tell them Logan said sorry!"

"I've done all I can, Rogue." Storm replies firmly, releasing a heavy sigh. "They won't budge on the issue."

"Well go threaten them! Burn down their homes, their business, and their favourite porn stores! Turn God on their asses and strike them down with lightning, Storm. Do something!"

"Strike them down with lightning?" She splutters, shaking her head. "I'm not using my powers on them, it's dangerous and uncalled for. They're not the Brotherhood!"

"It doesn't matter who they are, you can blame God for it. Even in America you can't sue God." I respond, pouting at the woman.

"I can't do that and I _won't _do that." The regal looking woman says, tucking her hair behind her ears. "I can't believe you'd suggest it. What would the Professor have thought?"

"The Professor wouldn't care I've suggested it because the plumber was a pervert! If Logan can fight for me, why can't you?"

"Rogue, be serious. I can't attack every perverted plumber with a lightning bolt. And Logan should have kept his temper in check! That's why we're in trouble. He's a grown man; he can't run around punching everybody he takes a dislike to. That's not how the real world works."

I guess Storm's right, even if I don't want to admit it. Even if it sends me slightly giddy and light headed because Logan was jealous. If he was jealous, that means he loves me, he likes me! The roses were right; every part of him loves me, especially his fists. "Fine, I'll sort it out."

Storm arches a perfectly plucked, suspicious eyebrow. "You're going to sort this mess out?"

"Yeah, I'm going to sort it out. I'm a big, you know. I can handle this."

"Okay, I trust you, but there are rules to follow here. You can't use Logan's fists and I don't want you scaring Mel into dropping the charges."

I shuffle my feet and pull a face. I wanted to drag Logan along and talk him into punching the plumber again, then apologising and sneaking into Dairy Queen with me. I'm dying for chocolate ice cream. "Aw, Storm. You ruin all my fun."

"No violence, Rogue. Even you can't control the Wolverine and his fury, just remember that."

"Okay, no violence." I ground out through clenched teeth, that last remark of hers dragging me to the line of fiery anger. "I wasn't going to use Wolverine like that, what do you take me for?"

"A young woman in love," Ororo smiles gently, standing to her feet and elegantly walking away. "And it looks good on you."

"Thanks, but what about my toilet?" I call after her, my mind suddenly drowning in worry for my bowels. After all, a girl needs a toilet just as much as she needs a Wolverine.

"You'll have to talk to Mel, Rogue. I wish you luck!"

Well isn't that grand? My toilet is still dead and kicking up a stink, but the roses and their mommy tell me Logan loves me. That's great, just great. I wonder if Jubilee is up for a non-violent trip to a plumbing store and DQ? Yes, I'm still hankering for my favourite ice cream.

* * *

"What, do I have to come?"

"Yeah, you have to come! I can't go on my own, Jubes. This is all your fault anyway because you attacked my toilet."

"Why can't you take Wolvie with you? He attacks everything and you never chew him out!" Jubilee whines, pointing to her clip, clop heels. "I'm wearing Prada shoes, Roguey. Girls that wear Prada shoes don't visit plumbing stores."

"I can't take Logan; he'll punch the guy again and Storm said we can't strong arm the idiot." I complain, pulling at Jubilee's sleeve. "We have to go soon or my Logan will be standing in front of a judge who probably hates dogs and when Wolverine growls he'll get twenty-five years in jail!"

"Then tell him not to growl. He has a brain, Chica." Jubilee scoffs, batting my hand away like it's a feather in the wind.

Yes, like he would listen. When has anyone ever told Logan what to do and lived to tell the tale? He hardly ever listens to me and the roses know he loves me.

My best friend begins to fidget. She's bored, I can tell. "Have you found it yet?"

"No, have some patience, Jubes. I'm not a magician; I can't magic it into my hands."

I'm searching through the Professor's desk for a black leather bound book that holds all the contact details and addresses of builders, mechanics, gardeners, plumbers, repair men and the like. But I bet there's not a guy in there who looks as great as Logan does.

"Hello," A small, shaking voice politely whispers, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Is Storm here? I need to talk to Storm, she's nice. I need somebody nice."

I glance over at the door and the most adorable sandy haired boy is hugging the doorframe with a trembling lip. The middle of his nose and cheeks are peppered with freckles and the tears are sweeping in his pale blue eyes.

"Oh, you're so cute." Jubilee gushes, pinching his cheeks. "So you can't cry, okay? You're too cute to cry, Little Boy."

"Jubes, leave him alone." I plead quietly because the poor kid looks terrified and I don't blame him. Who wouldn't be scared of a giant cheek pinching banana? "Are you okay, Kiddo?"

"I... I need to talk to Miss Munroe. There's a monster and he's after me."

My heart breaks when the boy's tears crash down his ashen cheeks and I drop what I'm doing. "She's teaching, but that's fine. I'll help you, we'll both help you."

"Are you a teacher?" He asks me, wiping at his eyes with his balled fists.

"Yeah, I'm a teacher and the greatest, most powerful monster catcher woman, person, girl ever." I answer confidently, blatantly lying, but I feel really sorry for the boy and I only want to help. "Come sit down with me and tell us what's wrong. I haven't seen you before, are you new?"

The blonde boy sits down on the small couch in the corner, curling into my side. "I'm really new," He tells me, barely above a whisper.

"What's your name?" Jubilee quizzes him, perching on the leather couch arm.

"Mattie," He says, his eyes ghosting with tears.

"I'm happy to meet you, Mattie. I'm Marie," I tell him, smiling gently and wrapping my arm around his shoulder. He's so cute; I want to steal him away and he deserves to know my real name. "This scary looking banana is Jubilee."

"Hi," He murmurs, waving at the banana and cuddling closer to me.

Poking her tongue out at me, Jubilee pats the boy's head."So, what's up, Little Man?"

"I'm late for my class and –"

"And you're scared of getting into trouble?" I interrupt him, worried he's going to burst into floods of tears again and shatter my thundering heart.

"Yeah! I don't want the monster t'get me." He whines, hugging my waist tightly.

"Who's your teach?" Jubilee demands, while my brain begins to whirl. Oh God, I bet I know who his teacher his. There's only one guy who can install fear like this in a little kid. "I'll sort them out right now."

"Mister Wolverine. He's the monster," Mattie tells me, his voice dropping to below a strained whisper.

Jubilee gulps and jumps to her feet. "That's your department, Roguey. He's your love muffin and there's no way I'm chasing him with a net, he has claws."

"I'll tell you what I'll do especially for you, Mattie," I grin, hopefully reassuring him because if Logan does anything to this kid, I'm going to harvest his sexual organs and sell them on eBay. "I'll write you a note and when you get to class, hand it straight to the monster, okay?"

Mattie nods his head, his blonde curls spilling over his face as he sits up. "You'll really do that for me?" He asks me, his eyes wide and sparkling with a burst of happiness.

"I'd do anything for you, Mattie, you're my friend," I explain, walking over to the desk. Picking up a pen, I snatch a slip of paper and scribble down a hastily written note. Then because I can, I brush the paper against the bare skin of my neck.

Jubilee stares over at me with a searching gaze. "Have you lost your mind, Chica?"

"I'm covering it with my scent." I sigh, folding the note and handing it to Mattie. "Here you go, but don't look at it. This is for the monster's eyes only. We'll be back later and if he's mean, you have to come and find me."

"Thanks, Marie. You're great!" Mattie grins, waving and tearing out the room with the note getting crushed in his hand.

Smiling to myself, I finally spot the address book and show Jubilee it. "Let's go."

"Do I really need to come?" My best friend grumbles, following after me at a slower pace.

"Of course you do, you'll love it, Jubes. Plumbing stores are amazing places." And most importantly she will love Mel. I'm praying she will love Mel. That's my plan to distract the plumber from suing Logan's ass. "They're full of amazing people too."

As we stroll to the garage, Jubilee turns to me. "Hey, what did you write in that note?"

I shrug at her question, a little laughter bubbling from my lips. "Dear Mister. I Have the World's Smallest Dick. If you even scare one hair on this adorable kid's head, I promise I will cut off your little 'friend' and I know that's one appendage you won't be able to grow back, you asshole! How could you scare a little kid, you're being a monster! P.S. If I do cut it off, at least no other girl will be dogged by small penis nightmares!"

"Roguey, you didn't?" Jubilee groans, slapping her hands on her face and shaking her head.

"Yeah, I did. I don't see the problem." I answer, unlocking the car and leaning against the metalwork. "He was scaring that cute boy to tears, Jubes. I won't let him do that."

"He's going to kill you."

"Maybe," I shrug, climbing into the car and glancing at my best friend with a twinkle in my eye. "But it's been one hell of a ride and I'm nowhere near finished yet."


	8. I Me Mine

_**This is a really quick, heartfelt thank-you to all those reviewing! I'mYourChemicalRomance, Brit191, alexmonalisa, bologna121, ElizaV, Bastet42, starlight2twilight, ady-ell, McLoving Grey's, BrownEyedDevil and RagamuffinSundrop. **_

**This chapter has finally been edited and rewritten as of now. It's 13****th**** September 2012. And this rewrite is over four thousand words! Yes, it almost killed me. Actually it did. I was resurrected today.**

* * *

**I Me Mine**

No-one's frightened of playing it,  
Everyone's saying it,  
Flowing more freely than wine,  
All through the day I me mine.

- The Beatles

* * *

Jubilee stares down at her seat with a wrinkled nose. She doesn't seem happy, but I don't particularly give a dancing damn. I'm nervous and I have every reason in the world to be a jittery, jumping ball of flustered flesh. A large part of me -– say, my breasts - wishes I hadn't pilfered Logan's jealousy because my deeply devious plot, my devilishly delicious plan, it has blown up in my face and left me trying to pin my head back together with safety pins the size of Wolverine's penis.

Of course, my best friend races to my rescue with a voice that cuts through me like jagged glass. Can't she see I'm attempting to perform a much needed resurrection for my sassy soul? The one I used to own, the soul which slipped about in my body before I became a mutant and lost my attitude and my articulately angry attributes.

"My seat is filthy, Roguey!"

"Then don't sit down." I sigh at her, rolling my eyes a little and folding my arms. I always think like a master manipulator when I cross my arms. That's really strange, right?

"I think that's rude, you know, not sitting down." Jubilee shrugs, flicking another wad of gum under the seat. I think she has a strange aversion to rudeness that only she understands. "Isn't that rude?"

"We're not here to be polite Jubes. We're here to fight for Logan and his idiot, fool head!" I whisper in her ear, while I smile politely at the over-the-hill receptionist.

"What I want to know, Roguey," She smirks, wiggling her eyebrows and swinging her hips. "Is what kind of head you're talking about here? Is it a bald one? Does he call it his Mini Professor?"

"Jubilee," I gasp, throwing my hands to my blushing face. "You can't speak of the dead that way! What if the Professor can hear us?"

My friend laughs at my panic, but hey, I believe in ghosts and I think the Professor would be blushing up a storm in his poor ghost world. Nobody with a bald head wants to be likened to Logan's cock.

"Is that Rogue I spot?" Mel calls across the marble floor, waving over at me.

"Thank God, Mel," I say with a heavy dose of relief, my gaze crashing against his black eye. Wow, what a shiner. Logan really belted him. "That looks painful, does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't hurt. That puny man could never hurt me." He scoffs, flexing his muscles and putting on a terrible, eye wateringly bad show for us.

This emergency plumber must think I was born yesterday; you can't pull the fluffy wool over my love struck eyes where Logan's concerned. I bet Wolverine's never been puny, even when he was born. I bet his Mama cried because he was the size of a baby elephant and as hairy as a chinchilla.

Jubilee, meanwhile, looks like she's been cracked over the head by Hercules himself. "For a plumber, you're really hot." She mumbles in a slightly hypnotic state, a small drop of drool creeping down her chin.

Yes, I'm brilliant and need to be headhunted by Donald Trump himself! I'd even marry him if he promised to change his surname to something that didn't resemble having a living, breathing baby Ororo Munroe in his bowels. But there's still concern for how quickly my friend is falling for this clown. "Jubes?" I call to her, waving my hand in front of her face. "Snap out of it, will you?"

"You. Are. Hot." Jubilee adds, ignoring my existence. "Let me see your muscles again, Hot Plumber Guy."

Jesus, I've lost her completely. My best friend is away with the plumbing, plumber fairies.

"Mel, this is Jubilee," I introduce quickly, glancing between the two. I think they're undressing each other with their eyes and that thought makes me shudder with disgust. He's no Donald Trump. "My best friend and she's never stepped inside a plumbing store until now."

"Hubba, hubba!" Mel grins widely and I do a little sick dance as I squirm on my seat and gulp. Yuck! This is sickening to watch and I hope Logan appreciates what I'm doing here for him.

"And a 'Hubba' to you too, Mel-Mel," Jubilee whispers graciously, holding out her hand for him to take. I know my plan is working, but I feel like I should warn her about where he sticks his fingers when she isn't looking. And he never washes his hands!

Mel plants a sloppy kiss on her hand and pulls her closer to him. A lot like a fisherman drags his latest, greatest catch into his boat.

I clear my throat, already wanting to leave, but I need something first. "I'm here about my toilet."

"Would you like to go out Saturday night?" Mel asks confidently, swirling his new friend around in his arms and beginning to dance with Jubilee.

"Like on a date?" Jubilee blushes, caught up in the moment as she dazzles and dances like she doesn't have a care in the world.

This isn't really fair to me. I'm here about my toilet and Jubilee is dancing like a crab with a plumber who wants to sue Logan and send him to jail. When I woke up this morning, this wasn't how I thought my day would trot along. I'm really going to need to see a therapist by tonight.

"Yes, a date with me, the greatest plumber in America and beyond. I'm the John Lennon of the plumbing world and I know how to use my tools, Chick Pea."

"Yes!" She answers, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"But, my toilet..." I mutter sadly, getting a little teary eyed. Logan's never danced with me like that. He would rather drink beer and growl at all the empty bottles. "I need it fixed."

"I'll pick you up at eight," Melvin smiles, spinning her around once more, before he walks away with a skip in his step.

"Can you believe that, Chica?" Jubilee gushes, linking arms with me and dragging me helplessly to the exit. "Crack, sack and back, you better believe it!"

"Actually, no," I answer, feeling dumbfounded and befuddled. "I think I'm in a living, breathing nightmare without a working toilet or a naked Wolverine."

"Who cares about that? I'm totally in love, Roguey! I never thought I'd fall with these Gucci heels for a plumber, but hey ho, I'm dating a pipe and plunger man, Girl!"

"You just met him. How can you...?" My lips pause, my tongue dives for cover and my eyeballs rocket from my feet to the sky. Holy shit, I'm a fucking winner in the Logan lottery! "He answered me last night!"

Jubilee flicks my forehead and pulls a confuse face. "Did I miss something while I was dancing, Chica? Aw man, that always happens! Remember when we hit that club and I left you at the table and that guy dressed like Olivia Newton-John –"

"Shut up, Jubes!" Oh my God, last night Logan said 'I am'. I'm sure of it and it wasn't a dream because heck, they're steamy, not full of commitments. He said 'I am'. I said some embarrassing crap about wishing he was mine and he said 'I am'. Shit, I'm going to hyperventilate!

* * *

"We need to get back to the mansion," I squeal excitedly, dragging Jubilee back to the car faster than Elvis piled on the pounds. "Quick! There's no time to lose!"

"He doesn't look happy Chica," Jubilee concludes in a hushed tone, her hands caressing the steering wheel anxiously. "Maybe he didn't like the note?"

"Um..." I'm running away from my words as we both watch a scowling Logan through the windscreen as he rounds on the car bonnet. "I guess he's run out of patience finally. You know what he's like with kids." When that teeny, tiny and rather unfunny jokes falls as flat as a pancake, I grimace. "Put your foot down, Jubes."

Her face whips around and she glares at me. "Are you crazy? I'm not running him over!"

"Shh, he'll hear you! I don't want you to run him over, just scare him a little. Give his butt a tiny nudge and he'll leave us alone then."

We're both silent for a few moments while Logan stares us down. Finally, I unbuckle my seat belt and huff dramatically. "This is your fault, Jubilee."

"How's this mess _my_ fault?" She demands to know, grinding her teeth and looking like she wants to smother me where I cower confidently.

My brain is chugging on empty and I throw my hands in the air. "You should have parked in the garage!" I toss at her, wondering why I refuse to take the blame for this disaster having my name written over it in ten foot, neon lettering.

"Roguey, he's not pissed with my parking!" She points in my face, wiggling her finger. "You wrote him that stupid, sweaty note."

I snort defensively. "Who cares about the stupid note, Jubes? Logan's a guy, not a little boy. He's mature with things like this."

Jubilee smirks, her eyes sparkling. She knows she's won the argument. "Tell that to him."

"Oh sweet Lord, I'm going to die!" I exclaim, spotting a thunderous Logan stalking over to the passenger side as I scramble in a race against time to lock the door.

Jubilee shakes her head with a knowledgeable sigh. "You're only making him more pissed. Any minute now, he's going to cock his leg and piss all over the window with his pissy penis."

Oh God, she's right. I'm going to be killed by a 'pissy penis'. "I don't want to die that way, Jubes. I want to live; I have so much I want to do with my life."

"You open this damn door, Rogue!" Logan barks, rattling the handle and fogging up the window with his snarling breath.

"I think you should do what he says," My best friend, falling into chicken mode, suggests to me. "Come on, step out the car and talk to him. It's like this: At least he's not using a sissy penis. That would flail about until you giggled and gnashed your teeth at it."

"Are you crazy? Yeah, you're crazy! You wouldn't dare leave this car and face him, Jubes, so don't try and talk me into being a martyr. I'm not Jesus and Logan doesn't look like a walking, growling cross." I grumble, scooting closer towards Jubilee. "And I'm not suicidal either."

"Think of it this way, girl, it would be an amazing, seriously hot way to go."

"You've lost your mind," I reply, daring to glimpse at the enraged Wolverine.

"No, please, not my baby!" Jubilee screeches in a panic as Logan unsheathes his claws and holds them inches above the hood. "I haven't finished paying for it yet. Rogue, get out, out, out!"

My terrified eyes triple in size and I gulp."But -"

"Get out, Rogue!" She orders, ready to tear her hair out.

"You're a traitor, Jubilee!" I shriek, suddenly finding the door unlocked, thrown open and then I'm yanked out my seat. Oh God, I'm dead. "Hi, Logan," I whisper gently, glancing up at his hairy face. "Missed me?"

He glowers at me and growls deeply. Would this be the wrong time to giggle about how the growling really turns me on? The way it rumbles passionately from his chest make my insides flip flop like flatulence.

"We need to talk, Kid."

Oh, only talk? Well, that's really dashed my hopes. In fact, I have no hopes left standing; Logan has fucked them raw and left a mass of limping pain in his fucking midst. The asshole!

"Logan, I can walk without your help, you know." I wouldn't actually call it 'help'; it's more of a possessive grip on my upper arm as he hauls me to his truck. "And where are we going?"

"Out," Logan grunts, sitting me in his truck and slamming the passenger door shut.

Okay, maybe I pushed him a little too far with the note. I just hope he didn't scare poor little Joey to death or I'm going to take an aluminium baseball bat to his animalistic gonads until they shriek in girly pain.

* * *

"You've brought me to a bar," I announce, surprise dribbling from my tongue as Logan ushers me into the tavern.

Could I consider this as a date, I wonder wildly, planning many, many lots of garbled nonsense and steaming sex. It's like, I don't know, my vagina is Tijuana and it's packed full of drunken folks playing the maracas and wearing large, floppy sombreros. Lord, I hope Logan isn't too floppy! Would that mean he isn't in love with me if he's too floppy?

"Beer," Logan demands, ignoring my heartfelt, excitable question and eyeballing the bar tender.

No, this definitely isn't a date. Where are the flowers, chocolates and champagne?

Sighing inwardly, I lean forward against the bar and want to drown my sorrows in the bottom of a well. But I'll have to make do with liquor for the moment. "I guess I'll have Southern Comfort and Pepsi."

Logan gives me a look and frowns. "She'll have water. Don't much care if it's from the tap or not."

"You know what? Make that a double Southern and Pepsi!" I inform the bartender, standing up straight and sounding forceful.

"Marie!" A certain feral growls, but his warnings and words have been banished to the land of, 'I don't give a damn!'

"Make that a triple Southern and a drop and I mean the tiniest drop of Pepsi. I don't even want to see the Pepsi in it, but don't worry; I'll know it's there."

"Hey," Logan grumps, landing a heavy palm on my shoulder and shaking me gently. "I ain't playin' here. Fuck it, you're a female, you don't need to be downing booze."

I almost break down sobbing when I realise Logan is readily acknowledging I possess breasts and I know how to use them. But no, this has gone too far and I can't give in now. I don't want my love rug to be walked over. I'd need to wax it first!

"Mr. Bartender, as scary as my friend looks, just forget about the Pepsi altogether. I'll have a bottle of whiskey instead."

"Kid!" My muscular hero barks, pulling at his own hair. "You ever listen to me?"

I can't believe he called me that. This means war. "You'd better make that a big, huge, hunk of bottle bigger than his mouth. I want your really best whiskey. It has to be the most expensive too."

"Damn it, Kid, this is goin' too fuckin' –"

"And one glass, please. My friend's paying."

I snatch the bottle and glass and head to a comfy looking booth hidden snugly at the furthest wall away from the bar. I'm far from the prying eyes of others and I'm in the mood to sulk quietly on my own tonight. My life sucks and I feel like Cupid is poking my love button with sharp, intrusive arrows bent into rude shapes.

"You think that was funny?" Logan demands, his eyes narrowing and his fury rounding on me while he takes the seat opposite. "What the hell are you tryin' to prove?"

"_I am_ of age, Logan. If I want to drink liquor, throw my clothes at the bartender and go skinny dipping I can and I'll do just that!" I snap, opening the bottle and pouring a generous amount of the amber liquid into my glass.

I wonder how many times I can slip 'I am' into the conversation without his hairy ass twigging on to my devious, dirty plan?

"You wanna explain to me why I even bother?" He sighs, gulping down his beer and shaking his head.

Huffily sipping my poisonous drink and wrinkling my nose, I stare at him and choke as the sickening drink twists along my throat and forces a gagging motion from me. "I don't like your tone, Wolverine."

"I ain't got a tone here, Kid. I'm stating the goddamn obvious like I always do."

Gasping, I point an accusatory, slender finger at him. "You see? That tone!"

"You can't see a tone, Marie." He snorts in amusement, his eyebrow quirking.

Fine, if that's the way he wants to play it, he should know I've been schooled in the art of capturing a guy's cock with my bare hands. It wouldn't even matter a jot if the cock in question had jagged teeth larger than a sperm whale. Jubilee is the greatest teacher ever, when she isn't drunk or thinking of cupcakes.

I quickly sip my whiskey as my brain whirls with fat, naughty old cogs dampened in juices of imagined orgasms sprinkled with brisk Wolverine fur.

"I think _I am_ right."

"Drink that damn stuff slowly, will ya?" Logan snarls, scowling at my almost empty glass.

"_I am_ drinking it slowly," I scoff dismissively, refilling the glass. "Anyway, are you going to tell me why you dragged me here?"

"Hell, I said slowly. Jesus Christ, I'm gonna have to peel you off the floor."

"_I am_ waiting for an answer, Logan."

"Yeah, well, you're gonna be waitin' a while 'cause I need a leak." He replies, finishing his beer and standing up.

"_I am_ appalled by your lack of manners. _I am_ a young lady, Wolverine." I retort, heavily emphasising the words 'I am'.

Logan arches an eyebrow while he walks away shaking his head and muttering obscenities under his breath. "Okay, now _I am_ really outraged!" I shout after him. "Your mouth is even dirtier than your underwear!"

"I'm goin' commando, Darlin'," He smirks, winking over his shoulder as he disappears behind the door to the restroom.

"Lord," I whisper, gazing at the ceiling and steeping my hands together. "I'll do anything to see _it_ again tonight. If you do this for me, I promise I won't insult his dingle dangle again. And I'd never insult yours either, okay? Do we have a deal? Please say we do because I look silly talking to the roof."

* * *

The time has rolled by and I sit nursing my eighth whiskey the same time Logan finishes his fifth beer. "You gonna share that?" He asks and nods at the bottle of whiskey I'm currently hugging.

"It depends on what I receive in return," I whispered, trying to be seductive but slobbering and tripping over my words. It's like my tongue is sewed to the roof of my mouth.

"Yeah," He snorts, leaning forward on his elbows and furrowing his brow. "What you looking for, Darlin'?"

"A toilet," I declare, jumping to my feet and crossing my legs. That was not the direction I wanted this conversation to travel in but I'm seconds away from wetting myself. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."

Oh God, a toilet, a fucking toilet? What in heck made me shoot that from my gums when Logan was being sexy and mysterious? A gorgeous guy is flirting with me and I respond by telling him I need to urinate. I don't want Logan to know that I use the toilet!

Shaking my head, I pause by the bar in search of another glass. Do you know I'm leaning toward the thought this stress is going to give me irritable bowel syndrome. I don't deal very well with stress, it makes me babble about silly things and fall into a trap of absurdity.

"Can I have another glass please?" I call to the lone bartender.

The shaggy looking barman slides a clean glass over to me without a word or glance in my direction. He's very committed and experienced in his job obviously.

"Thanks. Um, are you looking for any extra pairs of hands?" I mutter, my slight drunkenness throwing forth a aching to find employment and stick it to Logan.

"As a matter of fact, yeah," He answers, his beady eyes searching my face. "You got any experience?"

"Only at drinking and falling over," I smile cheekily and wonder what the hell I'm saying.

"That's what I like to hear. The jobs yours, if you want it?"

Heck yes I want it. This will show Logan I'm more than capable of looking after myself, even when he's going commando and I want to touch him all over. "I'll take it!"

With his forest of green dyed hair drooping over his eyebrows, he starts serving another customer. "Can you start Saturday night?"

"Yes," I answer instantly, having high hopes for my brand new job.

"Then be here before eight because that's when things flow through crazy."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow night," I smile and skip to find my table lumped alongside Logan.

* * *

"You ain't takin' that job," Logan tells me instantly, the whiskey thundering from the bottle and greeting and sweeping the bottom of his glass.

"Has anybody ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?" I snort, snatching the bottle away from him. "An' ladies first!" I slouch back against the booth and happily sip my drink, giving Logan the cold shoulder.

"If you want a job, work for Storm. She needs someone to sort through the files."

I would rather shoot myself in the vagina then work at the mansion. My Mama didn't raise a fool and I'm not receptionist material.

"You ignorin' me now?" He sighs, his amused gaze flickering to my hazy eyes. "Look, this ain't a place -"

"Shut up, Logan!" I snap loudly, slamming my drink down on the grizzled table top. "You're hurting my head. I'm getting a headache because of you!"

His eyes narrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard, you Jackass." I frown, watching a couple walk by our booth hand-in-hand.

"Hell, you're just drunk," He sighs, casting me a dark glance.

"Yeah, but do you know what? I don't care! You suck the fun out of everything I do. I bet you wouldn't even fuck me without discussing every reason to use a condom first. You're turning into Scott Summers!" I jump to my feet and storm off, whiskey bottle in hand. I wave goodbye to my new boss and stumble outside into the muggy night's air feeling very dramatic.

"Hey!" Logan barks, stalking after me.

"Go away!" I demand, swinging around and huffing.

"Get in the damn truck, Marie. I've sick of this shit tonight." Logan spits, glowering as he fumbles for a cigar. "We're heading back to the mansion."

"I'm not one of your students, Logan. I'm not scared of you," I hiss, pointing a finger in his face because that's my favourite pastime.

"I don't want you to be scared of me, Darlin'." He answers, gazing down at me and toying with the blonde streak in my hair.

The flowing streak of gentle sunshine reminds me of our special bond and I can never stay infuriated with him, especially when he calls me 'Darlin'. I'm a sucker, aren't I? They do say one is born every minute and I was the biggest one born that year.

I gulp as Logan's hand grazes softly over my cheek and he traces a calloused finger across my lips. Oh my God, this is it. He's finally going to kiss me. After all this time, all the scheming and embarrassment I've had to endure, my knight in shining adamantium is going to kiss me. No, that sounds too corny. Um, stud muffin? Yikes, that makes Logan sound like a total man slut. But just as he gently pulls me to him and I see his eyes darken there's a loud distraction.

"Is this your truck?" A guy yells and I want to fucking kill him.

When I said I was going to kill Jubilee I didn't mean it, but this time... Oh, I could cry. I was so close, so close. Somebody up there must really hate me. Is it because I talked about His penis? I didn't mean to offend the Lord like that.

Logan clears his throat and strides over to the idiot living in the world's worst timing machine. I hope he punches him. "Yeah, Bub, it is."

"Then can you move it? You're blocking my way."

"Sure," He grunts, beckoning me over.

I drag my feet behind Logan feeling utterly desperate for a bunch of heavy, rough action. Please someone contact CNN, Fox News, and the National Enquirer. Hell, even the President of the United States! I need to let them know living here in Westchester New York is the most pathetically undersexed young lady in the entire universe. I really, really hate my life.


	9. Within You, Without You

_**Massive thanks to everyone reading, reviewing and adding this silly story to their favourites and alerts! I love you all, truly, I do. **_

_**I'mYourChemicalRomane - Well, **__**I am **__**very happy you're in love with my story and please update yours soon.**_

_**ElizaV - Getting drunk at the bar was Marie's way of spiting him. Never try to tell an independent woman what to do!**_

_**bologna121**_ - _**You hate it when Rogue gets drunk? Explain yourself! And I'm waiting for the love letter. Haha! **_

_**alexmonalisa - Okay, I will give you the benefit of the doubt and no watching soaps while reviewing this in the future. I'll be watching you very closely. **_

_**wolverette –**_ _**Aw, bless you. **_

_**Soon2Bme - Yes, she really wrote that! And yep, you'll find out why Logan was so angry in this chapter. **_

_**Bastet42 - My advice is ignore the papers, especially if they are boring you half to death. And Logan not picking up on the 'I am' plot … Well, he's a man, there's not much else I can say really. **_

_**LadyGambit - I love hearing from new readers, it makes my day! Yeah, I like to torture Rogue. I have to say I have no problem with Anna Paquin's Rogue but I just wish that they had 'sassed' her up a little bit and given her a dollop of healthy attitude. It's always great to know that someone else shares my sense of humour! **_

_**starlight2twilight - I don't think I could ever write a story without Logan and Marie bickering or throwing banter about. I love tongue in cheek humour. Okay, so that's one vote for Rogue getting laid**_

**As of 19/09/2012 - This has been edited and rewritten. I know, this is taking me absolutely forever! **

* * *

**Within You, Without You**

Try to realise it's all within yourself  
No-one else can make you change  
And to see you're really only very small,  
And life flows on within you and without you.

-The Beatles

* * *

I sulk in the truck and watch Logan walk away. I told him I would wander in soon. This is madness dripping in pools of muddy, maddening mad stuff. We're both consenting sexual beings and I know for a fact that I'm not misinterpreting his feelings or mine for that matter. And love Logan and want to see him naked.

First thing is first though, no more liquor. I keep showing myself up in an invisible clown's costume and I must be damaging my chances for any hint of a Logan and Marie romance. Forget about the romance, I would settle for a peck on the cheek and a warm mug of cocoa, with cute little marshmallows shaped like penises floating on the surface and dancing in the dark, murky liquid. Make that pink and white marshmallows, it always has to be the pink and white ones. It adds a little colour to my life.

Right, that is it; I really need to unearth a life for myself. I nearly made out with Logan and I'm sitting here thinking about marshmallows. Sleep is calling me; yes it has to sleep deprivation that's crazing my crazily crafted cranium.

Seriously, that has to be the greatest idea I've suffered from tonight. Anything can happen in my dreams and Logan always approves of my erotic, naughty and steamy dreams. Well, the dream Logan does. I'm not really sure what the real Logan would have to growl on the subject. Hmm, I wonder if we have any marshmallows.

* * *

Standing in my still heavily trashed and wrecked looking bedroom, my pale brow is etched, scribbled and scribed with a depth of lines. "Where's my mattress?" I demand to no-one in particular and stare at the spot where said mattress used to live.

I'm pretty sure this is where I left it, in my room, to dry out. Why would someone kidnap my poor mattress? What did it ever do to deserve that? I don't even think Jubilee would... Jubilee!

What is wrong with her? I had better go pay the kidnapping little mutant a visit. It's only one thirty in the morning. I'm sure she'll be happy to receive a visitor and I would be more than happy to find my mattress. A girl needs a mattress or she will never be able to sink her delectable claws into a Wolverine.

I let myself into Jubilee's room, well her and Kitty's room but Kitty will be in Bobby's room and anyway all I want is my mattress, my mattress and some damn sleep.

"Jubes, Jubes!" I call, shutting the door behind me loudly. "Jubilee, get up!"

My God, has she died or something? Don't tell me the thought of dating a plumber has shamed her Gucci shoes _that _badly, they've murdered her in the dead of night.

"Rogue, have you any idea what time it is?" Kitty demands grouchily, sitting up and wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Do you see those eyes, they're too close together. She looks like an overweight pigeon that's been pigging out on fatty fries dripping in bacon grease. Oh yeah, bacon too. Kitty is the worse type of flying vermin.

"I didn't think you'd be in here," I mutter, my eyes shifting away from her. "Bored of playing seek and peek with Bobby's nonexistent cockatoo?"

My sworn enemy glares. "Bobby's out with the boys, Rogue. He has friends; do you know what those are?"

Marie D'Ancanto has suddenly struck gold and she will grip onto the golden, dingly danglies with her strong, harsh grip.

"You really think he's only paying attention to his male friends?" I question her, thoroughly enjoying myself as a ripple of revenge taints my words. "I wouldn't trust him to keep his pants on when he's out drinking and making new friends."

"Will you –"

I shake my head and carry on baiting the flabby pigeon. "Do you know what else? I think Bobby will be out there swimming in blondes with breasts the size of the Taliban's ego."

"Shut up!" Kitty howls.

"Maybe they're all models."

"I said –"

"No, she'll be a Playboy Bunny! This is New York after all and every Playboy Bunny loves to party in the city. And if Bobby has gone into the city..." Which judging by Kitty's face he has. "Ouch, that's not good. That's not good at all."

"Shut up!" Kitty shrieks, hurling a textbook at my head.

Thanks to Logan's killer Danger Room sessions, I dodge the flying words with ease and sidestep the murderous glower.

"Karma is kicking you in the skinny ass," I hiss furiously at the girl. "And I would check his cock for lipstick marks when he finally comes back here. Sweet dreams, Kitty."

I feel slightly torn as I storm from the room. Even after what they both did to me, I don't like acting that way. I'm not a bitch, I'm a Wolverine lover.

* * *

"What was that about?" A gruff voice wants to know while I creep down the hall like a burglar without a sense of direction.

"You're always listening to my conversations," I accuse Logan, stopping and turning to face him.

"Can't help it," He snorts, stalking over to me and smirking. "And you ain't answered the question."

I huff in response and reluctantly start to speak. "I was just looking for my mattress; I've misplaced it somehow."

"Misplaced it?" Logan repeats, cocking an eyebrow. Now that's another one of Logan's quirks I find irresistible. If he was to arch his brow while growling, I would probably have sex with his bushy eyebrow and orgasm right here.

"Yes, I know that sounds crazy, okay." And it sure does because mattresses do not grow legs and walk away. This isn't Hogwarts. "Night, Logan."

"Where you goin', Marie?" He demands, trailing after me.

"The rec room, I guess. The couches in there are pretty comfy, right?"

"You ain't sleepin' in the rec room," Logan grunts, shaking his head and placing a hand on my shoulder as he pulls me to a stop.

"Then where am I going to sleep? The hammock in the grounds, curled up inside a haystack in the stables? Colossus's room… No, I'd prefer Angel's room! I bet those feathers are really snugly to sleep with."

He growls and lifts my chin so our eyes meet. "Over my dead body, Darlin'."

I squash the urge to squeal in delight and lick my lips instead. Come on, kiss me. What are you, a giddy guy or a whimpering Wolverine? "Are you going to tell me where I'm sleeping tonight?"

"My room," Logan grunts darkly, his gaze grating against my eyeballs.

"I'm sleeping in your room again?" I mutter, my voice floating higher than a cloud.

"Yeah, don't want you leaving either."

My heart thumps and bumps against my ribcage, dancing the rumba with Logan's genitals and pretty little growl. "Will you be in the bed this time?"

"Yeah, Darlin', I'll be in the bed this time." Logan smirks, wrapping his arms around me.

Okay, now would be the time to squeal but instead I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek, risking major stubble rash like the daredevil I am.

"I'll go fetch my clothes and meet you there," I giggle, skipping along the hallway with sunshine in my heart.

* * *

Perhaps it's time to bash my head against Logan's naughty place because this isn't what I had in mind when the man with the adamantium gun invited me to jump in his bed. I just don't understand him. The guy spent more time in close proximity to me when I had toxic skin! Now we're both resting here keeping our hands and all other appendages to ourselves. Life can be horrible, really, truly horrible.

"Logan?" I whisper, gazing at the ceiling and pulling a face.

"Yeah, Marie," He mutters as still as a sack of rugged, handsome rocks.

"I never took you for the kind of folk who'd enjoyed a sleepover."

He snorts. "Sleepover?"

"I haven't been to one of these since I was thirteen. Where are those cute, fatty snacks and chick flicks?"

Logan smirks and sits up in bed, leaning his head against the headboard. "I don't do chick flicks."

"That's too bad. I wouldn't mind watching _Pretty Woman_." I sigh, fluffing up a pillow and sitting beside him.

"_Pretty Woman_, huh?"

"Yeah, I always wanted to be Vivian. She's a hooker." As soon as those words leap from my pouty lips I cringe and Logan is glancing at me as if I've lost my mind. He might be right … For once. "She has a heart of gold and then she meets Edward and falls in love. It's a modern day fairytale and when you watch it, you have to stuff your face with more chocolate than a Belgian."

Shaking his head, Logan opens his bedside draw, snatching a fat cigar and lighter from the dark depths of his bedroom furniture. "Do you often smoke in bed?" I ask him curiously.

"Yeah," He grunts, slipping the cigar between his lips and chewing on it.

If he lit that cigar anywhere near my kidnapped mattress he'd be blown sky high. My poor mattress, I wonder where she is. Yes, I sleep on a female; do you have a problem with that? If so, I'd go curl up in Mitt Romney's closet and wait for him to feed you a cookie.

"You said we needed to talk," I remind him as he puffs away on his cigar.

"That we do," He answers chomping on his cigar and glaring at me. "About that fuckin' note you gave that little punk."

"Joey's not a 'punk'!" I chide, leaping to the sweet boys defence. "He's adorable and you terrify him!"

"Good," Logan grumps, folding his muscular arms.

"What do you mean 'good'?" I demand, scowling. "You're worse than the child catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!"

"I ain't gotta clue what you're talkin' about, Marie."

I squirrel the movie into my imaginary list of Hollywood glitter I'm going to force Logan to watch. He had better make sure he pays attention because I'll talk him into taking an oral test at the end when the credits roll. Oral, I love that word. I want to be oral with Logan every moment of ever single, succulent day.

"You had better not have scared him, Logan. He's a sweet, sweet boy."

"Hell yeah, you can bet your bottom dollar I scared him!"

"You stupid asshole," I cry angrily, attacking him with anything I can slide my slippery hands on, which happens to be a fluffy pillow that bounces and engulfs Logan's side. "What is wrong with you?"

"Hey, will you cut that out!" Logan growls, his booming anger crackling off his bedroom walls and singing his body hair. "Do you know what he did with that note?"

"Uh, no," I answer quietly, sitting in front of Logan with the pillow in my hands. "What did he do with the note?"

"He passed it around the whole fuckin' class, Marie!"

He passed it around the whole class? A note where I insulted Logan's Billy the Kid and threatened to ... Oh Lord, that's hilarious. Possibly and slightly foolishly on my part I can't help drowning and dissolving into uncontrollable giggling.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Logan sighs, puffing on his cigar.

"That's -" I clutch my stomach as the tears roll down my face. "He got you good."

"What the fuck were you thinkin' givin' him that note?"

I don't think I was thinking and I'm certainly not now, I'm giggling too much and the giggles are gnawing at my voice box. The look on Logan's face is priceless and only causes more guffawing from me.

"Stop laughin', Marie!" He orders, smoke billowing from his nose and mouth.

"I... I can't!" I snicker, curling into a ball on the bed.

"You sure about that?" Logan replies, hauling me onto his lap and leaning closer to whisper huskily in my ear. "You're looking good here, Darlin'."

The laughter dies on my lips as he pulls me to him. "You don't play fair, Logan," I grouse, struggling in his grip.

"You think that note was fair?"

"Yes!" I squeak as I feel a pounding, prominent bulge making Himself known underneath me. If the Lord can have a capital letter thrown about in the middle of a sentence then I think Logan's heaping great slab of flapping flesh can too.

"Really," Logan challenges, his teeth nipping my ear lobe.

"I stand by my beautiful actions," I whimper as his hot breath leaves a trail of want and lust across my pale as the moon skin.

"You do, huh?"

"Yes, yes I do!" I'm teetering on the edge. I want it so badly but I don't want to give in first. "And I would do it again."

"No, not the hands," I groan as a smirking Logan caresses my breasts through my silk night gown, expertly kneading them. And that folks, reminds me of the time my Gran-mama taught me how to bake bread, which I burnt and... What is wrong with me? Okay, that does it. First thing tomorrow morning I'm making an appointment to see a doctor. Make that a shrink. Yes, I need to see a shrink. Kneading bread? Kneading breasts? Fuck me; I need to be fucked by a Wolverine! Listen to the vulgar language vulgarly shouting in my mind.

He stops teasing me and rests his hands either side of my hips and gazes through my silly soul. "What happened with you and the Ice Prick?"

My face twists with surprise. "You really think this is the time –"

"What happened?"

"Bobby and Kitty," I respond sadly, my eyes sweeping his face. "They always did their laundry together."

"You broke up because he washed his smalls with another girl?" He asks, obviously amused by the thought.

I slide off Logan's lap, stand up and fold my arms. "No, he smashed my heart with a laundry basket when I caught him fucking Kitty against a wall in the laundry room!"

His eyes harden with a promise of violence. "Hell, Kid. I didn't know."

I scoff at that. "Are you happy now, Logan? He dumped me! Is there anything else you demand to know?" I snap, tears swelling in my eyes. "How about the time I waited two hours for him to take me out but he was too busy spending quality time with his new friend! Maybe you'd love the details about me losing my virginity to somebody who didn't care? Or the fact the whole mansion knew what was going on between them but nobody cared enough to tell me!"

"I would've told you, Darlin'," He sighs heavily, snuffing his cigar out on his hand.

"You weren't here, Logan. You've never been here when I've needed you!" I shriek, storming to the bedroom door. "I'm going to find Jubilee. I wouldn't bother waiting up if I were you."

I flee the room and slam the door shut behind me. Mother fucking Wolverine and his stupid tongue! That was a disaster. Damn it, I was just totally screwed over and not in the amazing, spine tingling, I'm in Heaven, please more, yes, Logan, sort of way.


	10. I Don't Want To Spoil The Party

_**A huge thank you to all reviewing! You guys make me smile like absolute crazy. Starlight2twilight, Bastet42, Bologna121, ElizaV, Soon2Bme, wolverette, alexmonalisa, I'mYourChemicalRomance, melificent7, NeenaD91, McLoving Grey's, German, Ragamuffin, CrushedHale, FritzlerKiss!**_

_**Oh, and again a quick thanks to bologna121 who sent me the most hilarious love letter. It was addressed to my story, not me! And it was a fantastic read.**_

_**Yes, a shorter chapter this time but it was a fantastic piece to write. I also enjoyed editing and rewriting this! I really need to stop grinning at my own writing. I'm actually doing this as I watch**** Bargain Hunt****. Hah, don't tell anybody I spend my days watching such a thing, but seriously, I want to jump aboard the programme and earn lots of cash. I could beat everybody on there. ;)**_

_****_**Edited and rewritten as of: 16/09/2012**

* * *

**I Don't Want To Spoil the Party**

_I don't want to spoil the party so I'll go,_  
_I would hate my disappointment to show,_  
_There's nothing for me here so I will disappear,_

- The Beatles

* * *

Okay, so I have a confession to make. I never actually returned to Logan last night. I was rattled with anger and I hate confrontation. That's a lie; I don't really hate all confrontation, just Logan confrontation. I'm a drama queen; nowhere near in the scale of Jubilation Lee's fluttering squeals but a tiny drama queen with striped hair. And arguing with a guy who looks like he has been chiselled out of the finest Italian marble money can buy does not cut the mustard. Nuh uh, it sucks. You can't stand your ground and have a half decent war of words if every time you dare gaze at Logan you want to jump his coated metal bones.

I eventually found Jubilee, she was just returning home in the early hours of the morning. I thought she must have hooked up with the plumber earlier than I expected, but no. Do you know where she had been? I'm having an enormous crisis and Jubes is out shopping. She was shopping in the early hours of Friday morning because the local mall was having a one-off special involving cut price savings on shoes of all colours. Jubilee came home with a rainbow.

Of course, I was silly to be surprised, the girl is always shopping. It's become second nature to her, it's like breathing, eating and dropping shots of murderous liquor down your throbbing throat.

She bought herself "supplies" for her date. I couldn't understand why she needed a head start of more than twenty-four hours but she was adamant. Apparently she had no idea emergency plumbers could be 'so hot' and that's her words, not mine. So, face masks and beauty treatments were administered. Jeez, I make it sound like a chore or something utterly gross but cut me some slack because I was tired. And we fell asleep in Jubilee's room, Kitty had apparently disappeared. I would have bet Logan's ass that she was laying in wait for Bobby to return, she was probably going to attack him as soon as he stepped through the door and search for lipstick stains on his piece of pork.

It's now Friday evening and we're sitting at the dining room table together with the rest of the X-Men, minus Logan, there are even some younger students present. One of them happens to be the main suspect in the baseball/breast incident, an incident I would rather not think about. He certainly has no qualms about remembering such embarrassing stuff because he keeps snatching glances at my chest.

I guess that's the joy of living with horny, hormonal boys and their wild imaginations.

"Everyone is staring at me," I whisper to Jubilee, a little put out and squirming in my seat.

"I noticed," She replies with a smile.

I sigh and tap my knife against the tablecloth. "It's making me feel uncomfortable, Jubes. Why do they keep staring? I'm not naked; at least I don't think I am."

Jubilee shrugs. "You either pull your nipples out or ignore them."

My eyes narrow and I nudge my laughing friend. "I'm not doing anything stupid again."

"It's either that or you make a scene, Roguey."

I huff and sip my glass of water in annoyance. "They're still staring. What is everybody's problem?"

"It must be the whole Wolvie thing," Jubilee hisses, her eyes alight with mystery and intrigue. "You know what I mean?"

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about. What's he done now?"

"Wolvie hasn't done anything, Chica," She snorts, hiding her amusement behind her hand. "It's you! Your guy is the juiciest piece of gossip we've had all year, the whole mansion knows. It all started with that note; there isn't a student alive who hasn't heard about it."

Lord of listless Lords, it's all my fault and I'm so stupid. If only I hadn't written that damn note and embarrassed Logan like this.

"I've had enough and I'm going to do something about it," I say, clenching my fists and gulping when I comprehend what I'm about to do.

"What are you going to do?" She asks, glancing at me.

"This!" I respond dramatically, springing to my feet and clearing my throat. Shit, that is another Logan habit I've picked up along the way.

Jubilee attacks a crystal wine glass with a spoon attempting to gain everyone's attention. "Shut up, guys! Roguey-Roo has a speech to make!"

Double fuck, I don't make speeches. I can't make speeches. Oh God, I'm making a speech. "I... um, well I..." I glance at Jubilee who urges me on with a wave of her hand.

"I'd love to say a few words because I like to talk." Yeah, that's a great start. "My name's Rogue. I'm sure most of you know me or have heard about me at some point. I apologise for that and a note I hear you've been talking about. Unfortunately Logan couldn't be here tonight to clean, uh, clear his own ... Um, messes and things."

I think he's hauled up in a bar somewhere and I don't blame him. Actually, I wish I was there with him. I'm making it sound like he's confused the rug with his toilet.

"But I'd like to start by saying the note was my idea of a joke between friends." No, I'm blushing! "Secondly, it should never have been shown to anyone except Logan." Oh God, I'm actually making a speech and haven't said anything stupidly stupid yet. "And thirdly and uh, most importantly, I'm here to snatch these silly rumours about his junk from you and put them inside me. You know his ... Little Percy. Um, I'm not sure what you guys actually call yours." I sigh admittedly, looking directly at Hank, Kurt, Warren and Bobby who are also blushing furiously and looking rather hot under the collar. "But Logan has nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah," Jubilee pipes up. "My girl has seen it! Wolvie flaunted it in her face."

Triple fuck!

"No, no, no. He didn't flaunt it. It's a really long and complicated story and it's one that doesn't really have anything to do with what I'm saying now."

I'm rambling again, aren't I?

I gazed around the room at the many faces and sigh. "Okay, I pulled his towel off when I was drunk. See, Logan doesn't flaunt his assets. I know he wears tight jeans and you can't help but notice certain, uh –"

"Bulges, lumps, bumps?" Jubilee smirks wildly. "A swelling of man's meat?"

"Yes, bulges!" I cry, interrupting Jubilee before she gets going and topples into the rude world of names. "But he's a really sweet guy and doesn't deserve to be teased or treated like this." Everybody gapes at me as if I've lost my mind and I think it's an enormous possibility. "He's in no way small in the pants department."

"And not deformed either!" Jubilee adds quickly.

"What, deformed? Who said he was deformed?" I demand and glare at each mutant seated at the table. "He's not deformed at all. Compared to what I've had to put up with in the past," I stare openly at Bobby and so does the rest of the table. "His... His penis is beautiful!"

I immediately collapse in my seat and cover my heated face with my hands.

Storm and Jubilee clap as I squirm in humiliation and sink in a lake of shame. Yes, lots and lots of shame. I'm eating shame sandwiches and sleeping with the King of Shame.

"I think you're actually worse without a drink," Jubilee whispers, grinning from ear to ear.

I agree with her and hope Logan appreciates me sacrificing the last of my dignity for him because it's going to be a hell of a long time before I live this down.


	11. Hello Goodbye

_**I decided yesterday after posting the last chapter I would leave this fic for few days but yet again I wake up early this morning (courtesy of a very rude rumble of thunder! I'm surprised my bloody room wasn't shaking) and I check my emails and you guys yet again reviewed. So, I get to thinking; another chapter won't hurt. And anyway, I've already gotten the ideas for the chapter in my head.**_

_**Some of you people admitted to blushing like mad readers while reading the last chapter. I read it back and was blushing by the end, too. :D **_

_**An enormous thank you to everyone who reviewed, you all put me in a great mood today... despite the lack of sleep! :) Alexmonalisa, Soon2Bme, ElizaV, NeenaD91, Bologna121, starlight2twilight, beepersheartsbrucas, SuNgLaSsEs-ChI'c, JimandSteve, Bastet42, Kinetically Charmed, McLoving Grey's, Comic-cake, RagamuffinSundrop, anglophile7, In this world lives all worlds and notashamedtobe. **_

_**And before I forget, starlight2twilight, you reviewed and because this site can be extremely annoying at times it cuts out some of your words, so I get,  
"I cannot stop feeling all flushed, and it's not because of **. It's more like OMG awkward! Totally don't phase at **" **_

_**And whatever words I use to fill the blanks in with it just sounds funny. So what were the blanks? It's driving me mad and I need to know!**_

_**I really don't know what goes through my head sometimes (Shakes head) I blame all of you, especially you. Yes, you!**_

**Edited as of: 16/09/2012**

* * *

**Hello Goodbye**

_I say high, you say low  
You say why and I say I don't know, oh no  
You say goodbye and I say hello_

- The Beatles

* * *

I have yet another confession to make that I'm sure won't shock you to the brink of insanity. No, it's not going to rock your world at all. I slept in Jubilee's room again last night and avoided Logan again. After my excruciatingly, toe-curling and embarrassing speech, the one that both Ororo and Jubilee enthusiastically applauded, I left the table, collected some clothes and went to Jubes's room.

We painted our nails, ate chocolate and read trashy novels, you know the kind with a ridiculous sex scene on every page and then we fell asleep. It was like the old days. But sadly the sun still rose today and it's Saturday, the day of Jubilee's big date with the emergency plumber and I start my waitressing job tonight.

So here I am (whoo hoo, over here!) standing in the kitchen and attempting to avoid everyone, especially Logan. I'm hoping no-one has told him about last night's fiasco and I'm pretty sure someone is smiling down on me because, honestly, would you walk up to Logan and say, "Hey, I heard you have a beautiful penis".

I think not and I recognise the fact no student or teacher in this entire mansion would have the balls to start such a conversation. I also smother said fact with a flood of kisses because really, only Logan has the balls and they aren't the bouncing variety.

Anyway, I'll just have to avoid him until the whole 'Penis Speech' fades the minds of the mansion and hopefully that is going to be soon because I can't take much more of this. I don't know who is more flustered, me or any number of the guys who witnessed me rambling on about Logan's delicate area last night.

* * *

_**Saturday Night: 7:30pm**_

I have successfully managed to evade Logan all day. It's funny going through a whole day without seeing hide or hair of him, not that I'm saying Logan is hairy. Well, sure he has a hairy chest, his arms are hairy too and his legs. Oh and let's not forget his head and down there isn't bald either. Not that I've counted of course, but you would expect it to be hairy there wouldn't you? I couldn't imagine Logan having a back, crack and sack wax. Although I suppose the hair would grow back quickly. So you would never be able to tell because the whole healing mutation would see to that.

"Chica, that's the door. He's early!" Jubilee yelps, hopping about on the spot.

Thank God for that, I thought I'd be stuck providing you with a long winded description of Logan's most intimate of areas for a moment there. You probably don't want me to make another speech.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, I'll go and answer it," I reply as Jubilee rushes around the room like a headless chicken.

Now all I have to do is stay out of Wolverines way. Ugh, there have to be simpler ways to live your life.

* * *

"Coming through, coming through," I shout, squeezing apart a heaving crowd of young mutants. What the heck is going on? "Move it or lose it. Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me … excuse you!" I add huffily when somebody slaps my backside.

Soon I arrive at the front of the scene and I'm completely taken aback for a second or two. Logan has our favourite emergency plumber pinned against the wall in the entrance hall with three distinct and sharp claws pointed at his throat. If he slips we'll be mopping up blood for weeks, no, months! And Jubilee will be crying on my shoulder for years.

I either keep avoiding Logan or drag him off Melvin. Fuck it, I have to stop being a chicken. Traipsing over to the raging Wolverine, I tap him on the shoulder. "Maybe you should let him go? You're causing a scene!" I point out to him, glancing at the eager bunch of students who are excitedly waiting for Wolverine to decapitate our guest. Jeez, I wonder what they have against plumbers.

One menacing glare directed straight at them from Logan and the crowd disperses, leaving only the three of us standing there. "Logan, I'm being serious, let him go."

Not surprisingly my pleading seems to have fallen on deaf and dumb ears. For some reason he's tightening his grip and the claws are drawing a trickle of blood from Mel's neck.

"You've got five seconds." I tell Logan, poking his arm in warning. No, still nothing because I think he's ignoring me. "Five, four, three, two, one," I count down sternly. "Fine, Logan, fine! You asked for this, Bub." I inform him in a first class Logan impression. "Don't come crying to me because I'll only say, 'I told you so'."

This is probably not the best idea I've ever had but hey, I wouldn't pass the chance to cop a feel. I reach down and grab his balls through the coarse denim and apply as much pressure as I dare. I don't want to be too rough, I might break them. Logan almost chokes on his tongue and releases his hold on poor Melvin who drops to the ground in a smartly dressed heap.

"Please excuse us for a minute. You just sit there and relax." I advise Mel smoothly and with an extra hard tweak I tug Logan, along with his bulging eyes into the kitchen.

I release my hold on his goodies and shove him gently toward the wall. "What was that about!?" I hiss, placing my hands on my hips.

Logan bends over cradling his balls and I can hear a handful of growls mixed in with a fair amount of snarling. No words yet though. Oops, I might have squeezed a little too hard.

"Um, are you okay?" I ask, carefully eyeing the only exit in case I have to run like the wind. I suddenly have flashes of images featuring the last man to hurt him down there and I cringe. Logan knocked him out in that cage fight, didn't he? Oh sweet Lord, the announcer had said, 'Anything goes but he'll take it personally if you hit him in the balls'.

"Sit down, Logan. I'll get you a beer!" I whisper sharply, beginning to panic like a fish called Flounder when he loses Arial to a rush of water.

Yeah, like a bottle of beer will stop him from killing you, Marie. I scurry to the fridge and fetch him a cool helping of his favourite drink.

"Here," I place the beer down in front of him. "Please talk to me. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. It was an accident."

"That's bullshit, Marie!" Logan bellows, finally looking up and removing his hands away from cupping his balls.

"Uh, I don't want to talk to you now. Maybe you should sit down and take a deep breath. And you're healing right?" I ask him, battling the smile from swarming my face.

Don't laugh, Marie. Don't laugh or Logan will murder you without the use of sex. Don't laugh, Marie, don't laugh.

"I'm s-sorry," I giggle, my shoulders shaking and twitching.

"God damn it!" He barks, making me jump free of my skin.

With startled eyes I watch him stalk to the door. "Wait, Logan, where are you going?"

"Me and the fuckin' plumber ain't nowhere near finished yet." He scowls, not bothering to turn and look me in the eyes.

"What!" I chase after Logan and continue to admonish him. "You need to listen to me, you idiot." I command, blocking the kitchen door with my arms. "Melvin hasn't done anything to me or anybody else. So what's going on between you both?"

Jubilee pokes her head in, interrupting our disagreement, thankfully. "Have you seen how hot he looks, Roguey?" She hisses excitedly, winking at me. "I can't wait to rip his clothes off! I'm going to squeal when I jump him. See you later, girl, don't wait up."

I wave my best friend off and remind her to force a condom on him before she does anything silly. Then I turn to face Logan again.

"Hell, the firecrackers goin' out with him?" He mutters, arching both eyebrows in surprise.

I nod my head. "Who did you think was ..." Trailing off into a muddle of madness, I feel the urge to cartwheel across the kitchen.

Ah ha! Logan thought I was going on a date with Melvin so he attacked him in a jealous rage. Who needs Sherlock Holmes when you have a mind like mine?

We both stare at each other and I can feel my stomach churning and fluttering with nerves and possible gas. "You were jealous," I state, calmly watching him. "Jealous of my friendship with a plumber, weren't you?"

"Guess so," Logan grunts, glancing at me and scratching his chin.

"But why were you jealous?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but before I receive my answer the tannoy system jumps to life and Logan claps his hands across his ears. High pitched sound echoes throughout the room. We both gaze at one another and I shrug my shoulders, unsure what's happening. Just as I'm close to asking Logan to continue, a booming voice crackles over the speaker. What a second … Has my voice always sounded so masculine?

"_My name's Rogue. I'm sure most of you know me or have heard about me at some point. I apologise for that and a note I hear you've been talking about. Unfortunately Logan couldn't be here tonight to clean, uh, clear his own ... Um, messes and things."_

"What is this?" Logan asks me, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Um," I can't decide what to tell or how to explain I hope he loves me because my voice is about to embarrass the both of us again.

I stand there still praying this is all just a dream, no, a nightmare. Wake up, Marie, please wake up! Nobody would be _that_ cruel to record my speech and then play it for all to hear would they?

_"But I'd like to start by saying the note was my idea of a joke between friends. Secondly, it should never have been shown to anyone except Logan."_

What was it I said next? What did I blurt out? _"And thirdly and uh, most importantly, I'm here to snatch these silly rumours about his junk from you and put them inside me. You know his ... Little Percy. Um, I'm not sure what you guys actually call yours. But Logan has nothing to be ashamed of." _

"No, I need to stop this!" I shriek, blushing fire engine red and scampering for the door.

Jubilee's voice filters through the speaker loudly. "_Yeah, my girl has seen it! Wolvie flaunted it in her face."_

Last night I said it would be a long time before I lived this down. I was wrong; I'm never, ever going to live this down because I'm going to die tonight. I'm going to die.

_"No, no, no. He didn't flaunt it. It's really long." _

Fuck, fuck, fuck! They've chopped half my sentence away!

"_Okay, I pulled his towel off when I was drunk. See, Logan doesn't flaunt. I know he wears tight jeans and you can't help but notice certain, uh –__ Yes, bulges! But he's a really sweet guy and doesn't deserve to be teased or treated like this. He's in no way small in the pants department."_

The mansion falls silent and I release a sharp sigh of relief. Thank God, someone has finally come to their senses and switched the thing off. But did they have to stop it there? It sounds so dirty and terrible.

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_My voice blasts and flies high from the speakers causing me to run even faster as I head to the Professor's office.

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

No, my life is officially over. How can I ever show my face to Logan again? He's probably fled to a bar and set up camp there with a tent and a flask ready for his whiskey. I swear I could cry tears of upset right now.

'_His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

_'His... His penis is beautiful!'_

I reach the doo finally, try the handle and it's unlocked. The idiots have left it unlocked, maybe there is a God? I throw the door open along to the sound of my own voice praising Logan's genitals and storm into the room ready to rip the culprits to shreds. But standing there in pretty looking clothes is Jubilee and Melvin. I start searching the room for the mean culprits who have broken my heart.

"Where are they?" I snarl, ducking under the desk and crawling along to the curtains too. "Where the hell are they?"

"Where are who, Chica?" Jubilee questions, following me around the office.

"I'm talking about the ones who've put my words on the speaker, Jubes. Will you turn that off? I can't hear myself think!" I screech over the fucking recording. "I never want to hear about Logan's penis ever again."

"I don't know what you're going on about, Chica." She grins, embracing Mel. "And you can't mean that. You love his cock."

"Wait a minute," I gasp, slowly climbing to my feet and dropping my hunt for the folks I'll never find. They're not behind the curtains or hiding because they're right in front of me hugging. "It was you two."

"What do you mean, Sweat Pea?" Melvin grins, shaking Jubilee gently. "Do you get it? I said 'sweat pea' because she's sweating like a boiled pea."

"I – I can't believe you," I stammer, shaking my head in disbelief. "How could you do this to me? How could you ruin my life?"

"I haven't ruined your life," Jubilee replies a little too innocently for my liking.

"You have and I'm done. I'm done, no more. I'm done!"

"But we're so close," She whines, resting her head against Melvin's shoulder. "Wolvie's almost eating out your palm."

"Well you can count me out. I've been humiliated enough!" I cry, tears stinging my hazel eyes in earnest.

I stomp out the office and ignore Jubilee's calls for me to reconsider. Fuck, I'm late for work and that's fan-fucking-tastic. Well, fuck Logan, fuck Jubilee, fuck Melvin's jokes, fuck romance and most importantly, fuck Logan's penis!


	12. Come Together

_**Thank you to all the reviewers! **_

**Edited and rewritten as of 30/10/12 (I know I'm being ever so slow and I apologise. I'm having trouble wrangling with my muse and enthusiasm for all things in general. But I am listening to a very random Beatles radio station online right now. My behind was kicked in gear when 'All You Need is Love' was played. Consider me signing up for writing duty again.)**

* * *

**Come Together**

_He say one and one and one is three__  
__Got to be good looking__  
__Cause he's so hard to see__  
__Come together right now__  
__Over me_

- The Beatles

* * *

I've come to a startling conclusion fifty-two minutes into my brand spanking new career. Yes, I have, so please listen to me very carefully: I hate my job! It sucks big time and I'm officially a slave. I clean, I mop, and I'm an all-round destroyer of those evil dust bunnies. I also have to fend off drunks, beer breath and even worse, creepy guys who aren't named Logan keep offering me their cocks. They say they want to bump their marbles against my body and moan as they fuck me. Help me, I hate this job and I want Wolverine.

If I wasn't stupidly stubborn I would have thrown in the towel and told my boss exactly where he could shove his shitty excuse for a job ages ago, but then I remember Logan telling me he didn't want me working here. I can handle this, no seriously, I can. I know a certain knucklehead doesn't think a girl like me can work in a bar and I'd love to take the opportunity to shout at him because he's wrong. That hairy bastard is _always _wrong.

Somebody catches my wandering gaze and my brow is strangled with disapproval. I don't like this at all. "What are you doing here?" I groan, wiping down a table and wishing men were able to clean up after themselves.

"Just hear me out, Roguey," Jubilee begs. "I'm fucking sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Shit, look at me, I'm sorry. Don't you think I'm sorry? Well, I am!"

I roll my eyes and flick an onion ring on the floor. "I forgive you," is my answer, "You know I always forgive you. Next time I won't be this nice. I'm sick of being nice. Where's that ever gotten me, huh? Nobody wants a nice girl."

Jubilee pulls a face and steps closer. "That means you're not mad at me anymore, right?"

"I guess so," I sigh, sweeping a mountain of spilt pepper over the onion ring. "But there was me thinking I'd blown it when I told him he had small dick. The other night I was drunk and now what excuse do I have? He probably thinks I'm crazy. Heck, Jubes, he'll be packing his stupid duffle bag right now. I won't see Logan again."

I walk back to the bar with a tray of dirty glasses in my hands and Jubilee close at my side. "No, he loves you, Chica, you're meant to be together! Don't let the curious case of the small dick get in your way. We all know it's huge," she wails melodramatically. "Wolvie has a huge one. Come on and say it with me."

I give her a look. "You didn't see his face when he heard that speech, Jubes. And I don't want to talk about his you-know-what. It's dead to me."

Placing the glasses in a neat pile beside the sink, I lean against the bar. "It's over," I whisper. "He won't want me now and I don't want him. His sausage meat and dumplings have scattered in the night."

"Poppycock," Jubilee scoffs.

"You've seriously got to stop watching those English shows on cable," I tell her with a smile. "You sound like you're from Australia when you talk in that funny voice."

"I think it sounds tip-top," She grins. "And you'd best shut your trap, my old chum."

I snort at her terrible damn attempt at an accent and wrinkle my nose curiously. "Hey, aren't you supposed to be on a date?"

"I am on a date. Mel's waiting outside in the car. He's fantastic! Did you know he once worked for the FBI and the CIA? He even took a job as the President's bodyguard and he used George Bush's personal toilet. Mel left piddle all over the seat, too!"

I stare at her in amazement; please tell me she didn't fall for all that? I'm going to talk to Mel and threaten him with a Logan punch again. He can't get away with wrapping Jubilee up in bullshit.

"Uh-huh and what else did our emergency plumber tell you?" I ask her dubiously.

"Well, Mel's met the Queen, you know, the one in England, not a drag queen. He's played poker with Johnny Depp. He met Paul McCartney at JFK Airport and now they're really good friends. I'm not exactly sure who Paul McCartney is though." She shrugs. "But Mel said he likes to drink whiskey. I bet Wolvie would love him."

I sigh tiredly and twirl a loose strand of hair around my finger. "Look, Jubes, there's something I have to tell you about …" Suddenly my mouth gapes open and I squeak. "Fuck it, you have to help me!"

Jubilee is instantly on guard and ready to boot any bad guy in the balls with her forehead."What, what is it? Shit, is the Brotherhood here?"

"No!" I hiss, grabbing hold of her arm and dragging her to the restrooms. "What is he doing here? He can't do this to me! Not tonight."

"What the hell are you spitting about, Chica?" Jubes questions, as I lock the door behind us. "And this is the guys' restroom."

"Him, didn't you see? I haven't seen him since it happened," I grouse, kicking the door in frustration. "Why is he here? It's not like this is the only bar in New York."

"Is Mr. Hunk of Burning Love here?"

"No, it's not Logan," I whine in despair. I would have welcomed Logan's meat stick with an open mouth right now. "It's David. _David_."

"I've never met anybody called David. Who the hell calls their kid David?" She snorts, reapplying her lipstick in the cracked mirror.

I pout a little and lean against the door. "You would remember David if you accidently put him in a coma. Do you know who he is now? I told you all about him, Jubes."

She swings around to face me. "No way, it can't be! Is it Coma David?"

"Maybe," I whisper, wanting to bawl my eyes out until I'm blinded by escape plans.

"As in the David you had your first kiss with?" Jubilee asks, finally grasping the seriousness of the situation. "This isn't good, is it?"

"I can't let him see me. What if he tells my Mama and Daddy where I am?"

Holy crap, what am I going to do? No, don't panic, this is what my X-Men training has been leading up to. All I need to do is think clearly and breathe. I can't forget to breathe, that wouldn't be good. It wouldn't be good at all.

"I know," I cry, startling Jubilee. She yelps as she pokes herself in the eye with a mascara brush. But my eyes are wide as I point across the tiny room. "I need a window and there's one right there!"

She stares at me with one watery, bloodshot look and shakes her head. "You'll never fit through that, Rogue. You're crazy."

"Is that your way of saying I've put on tonnes of weight?" I gasp, hands resting on my hips.

"Well, you have put on some extra weight, girl" she says, matter-of-factly.

I instantly snap at my best friend. Yeah, I'm defensive about my weight, but what woman isn't? Next she'll be saying I look like a pale, chocolate elephant made and melted down in Mississippi. "I damn well haven't and I'll prove it to you!"

Oh, I'll show Jubilation Lee that Marie D'Ancanto can crawl out a tiny window in an even smaller bathroom when the guy she put in a coma is partying away in the bar she works in.

Hauling myself onto the sink, I balance unevenly on my knees with a nervous hiss. Heck, I need to channel the Rogue before I fall off the counter. I quickly unfasten the window latch and open it as far as I can.

"It's too small," Jubilee chimes in.

"And you're too negative," I scold instantly. "You need to help me, too. Push me up there and I can do the rest."

I stand up and take a deep breath. Jubilee places her hands on my backside and roughly shoves me up toward the tiny window. As I try to scramble through the space, I can't help wishing Logan's calloused hands were squeezing my ass cheeks. I like a good squeeze and I like Logan, too.

"No!" I whisper sharply, embarrassment shining bright in my eyes.

I can hear Jubilee giggling behind me. "What is it?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"I've gained weight," I whimper, trying to wriggle loose. "I think I'm going to have to marry this window, too. Oh God, Jubes, I'm going to be stuck here forever!"

"Try again!" Jubilee calls, her cry echoing in the restroom.

"No!" I whine, glaring at the cold air surrounding me. "I swear I'm going to cry if you touch my ass again, Jubilee!"

"This is your fault, Rogue," she tells me. "I told you what would happen, didn't I? I told you and now everybody on facebook is going to know about this."

"If you post anything about this, I'm going to kill you," I growl, wanting to murder her already. This is all her fault. "And I'm not fat!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the poor window," she teases.

"Will you do something? I'm going to be stuck here all night!"

"Don't sweat it, Chica, because your best friend has your back. Leave it all to me."

I gulp and start praying to God. Please smite this window for me. Please. I promise I'll start exercising again. And I don't even mean the dirty kind that involves me getting sweaty and naked with Wolverine.

* * *

"Yes, I can see the problem," Melvin says, patting my bottom.

I scowl as my best friend chatters away. If he touches me like that again I'll be the one head butting him in the balls. "So, can you help?" Jubilee asks him.

"I don't have any tools," he sighs, scratching his head.

"Tools," I gasp, desperate to free myself. "Why would you need tools? I'm not a naughty toilet or a leaking tap. I'm just a lady with a liking for southern fried chicken!"

They both ignore my argument and Jubilee talks over me. "You're a plumber aren't you? You deal with blockages in pipes all the time. Use your hands, Mel."

That's just great; my best friend is now describing me as a blockage. Is that how Logan sees me too? He probably ran because he didn't want me to block his love machine with my pouting pussy and wide birthing hips. I hate guys and they can all scurry off to hell!

"I don't deal with this type of blockage," he argues in a saintly voice. "I'm the plumber of the century, but good girls gone bad isn't my scene, Buttercup."

"Here's the deal, Melon Head. You get Roguey out of her tight spot and I'll make it worth your while."

"Jubilation Lee!" I shriek, kicking my feet to let her know even my legs think she's an idiot. "Put a leash on that self respect of yours!"

This is pointless. I'm going to die here with only a brick wall and a faint breeze for company. You see, even God doesn't care about my elephant hips hugging a window frame. Oh man, He's just blowing His bad breath in my face. If it starts to rain, I know He's tinkling on me with a teasing sparkle in his eye and I won't be happy. Heck, I'll never see Logan's slippery noodle again because I'm stuck here for the rest of my life. Damn it, I could cry a river and flood the planet because I want to see it up close just one more time.

"Get your hands off my ass!" I screech, trying to catch the perverted Mel with my shoe.

"I think it's time to bring in the big guns," I hear Jubilee sigh.

That's it, my life is over. Now a sexy, shirtless fireman is going to knock the building down to free me and I'll be flung all over the news tonight and tomorrow morning.

* * *

I'm dead. I've officially died of embarrassment. Yeah, perhaps it was a painful death, but don't worry, I'm now at peace now and cuddling a cock that looks suspiciously like Wolverine's woody. No, I'm kidding. It was a nice thought though.

"Why the hell was she climbin' out the damn window anyway?" Logan demands to know and his words really don't have a spring in their step. I wouldn't be jumping for joy either if my ass was dragged out of bed to deal with this shit.

Jubilee scoffs. "Wolvie, hello, you're missing the point, dude! Your girl is making love to the window instead of you."

"I'm not his girl!" I splutter, adding my two cents. Wait a minute; I shouldn't be arguing that point. I need to crush her other comment like Juggernaut greeting a bed of daffodils. "Jubes, my hips aren't even moving, shut up!"

"You're my best friend, Chica, and I know when you're talking crap. Go on, admit it, you wanna ride Wolvie in a roller coaster kind of way: rough, loads of squealing and you'll probably puke at the end. Everybody knows you could attach a flag to his pole and he wouldn't bite your tits off if you tried."

I swear somebody needs to call 911. My cheeks are on fire. "Jubilee, I hate you!"

"No you don't," she grins, poking my butt.

I grit my teeth and huff. "I hate you!"

"No, you don't."

"I hate you, Jubilation Lee! I wish that gum of yours would wrap around your tonsils and choke you to death!"

She pokes me and pokes me and pokes me. "That's a mean thing to yell when you know you love me, Roguey. I'm the only girl who's ever seen your tits. Remember when we flashed—"

"Uh, Butternuts, cool conversation, but can't it wait?" Melvin the Pervert slides in to our well slicked argument.

Wolverine grumbles to himself and my worried ears catch a sound that fills me with a wave of dread. _Snikt. _"Move your ass, Bub. I ain't in a patient way of thinkin' tonight. Move it or lose it. And I ain't playin'," he growls at Mel.

His boots stop close to my right side and I panic. "Logan, don't you dare," I tell him, my legs flailing. "You know I hate it when you treat my body like beef jerky!"

He snorts. "And you," he grunts, squeezing my ass, "can calm the hell down. I know what I'm doin' here."

"Don't tell me to calm down," I order, working myself into a slight frenzy.

Although that hand of his cupping and cuddling up to my ass cheek is magical. I know what Samantha Stevens and Sabrina the Teenage Witch felt like. It's amazing to have magic and mystery flowing through your veins. My flight of magical silliness is only caused by Logan, but whatever, I still stand by my thoughts.

That razor sharp claw of his tears through the fabric of my shirt and I gasp. "You owe me a new top," I mutter, as he hauls me out the window with his calloused hands gripping my mile-wide hips. He gives me a look and I sigh. "And thanks."

"You're welcome," he replies gruffly, setting me down and tugging loosely at the bottom of my frayed shirt. "You were snagged on a splinter. Good to know your trainin' didn't go to waste, Darlin'."

My eyes dart to Jubilee and I glare at her. "I thought I was stuck," I mumble, wishing the ground would swallow me whole.

My giddy and grinning best friend drags her plumber away and leaves me alone with Logan. I don't know what to say. Every time I've opened my mouth, done something or even tried to escape, I smash my feet through the world of embarrassment and beyond.

I glance at Logan and watch him watching me. My thoughts are tumbling and I don't want this 'you like my cock' conversation tonight. Actually, I never, ever want him to mention the last few days again.

Vaguely thinking over my options, I pick the easiest, and I run.

* * *

Panting and puffing, I hide down an alleyway and almost hug the brick wall in relief. I've lost Logan, I've probably lost my job and I don't care. Hell, why did I run? My Mama was right about me; I make everything worse.

Somebody clearing their throat startles me and I turn around. How did he …? Oh yeah, I'm stupid, he used his powers to track me down.

"Glad to see all that runnin' I made you do when I was trainin' ya weren't for nothin'," Logan snorts, a cigar dangling from his lips.

"Do you know how fucking annoying you are, Logan?" I hiss, kicking the wall and storming away from the alley. I thought it was the perfect hiding place, too. "I can never beat you! You're always in my head, you're always in my face and I hate you for it!"

He sighs heavily and stalks after me. "Hell, Marie –"

"No, listen to me for once," I order him, stopping on the sidewalk and inhaling the stench of cigar smoke. "I can't be around you without coming out with the most ridiculous stuff. Do you know what that's like, Logan? It never happens when I'm with other folks. Every single time I talk to you and say something really dumb you smirk and shake your head. You're even looking at me strangely now!"

Why is he staring like that? I'm pouring out my broken, beating, brazen, blasted heart and he's having merry fun with my chest.

I follow his gaze and blush. "See, this is what I'm talking about. Now I don't even need to talk to embarrass myself. My nipples are hard and it's your fault. Are you proud of yourself, Wolverine? You make my nipples hard! Look at them, they're standing to attention like… like soldiers about to go into battle and I can't make them stay in formation. Look, I've even talking like an army guy now!"

Out of nowhere, Logan drags me roughly into his arms and his lips crash against mine. His tongue fights for dominance while mine prances and dances about.

"You wanna take this somewhere more private?" Logan mutters huskily in my ear, abandoning my lips long enough to nip at my ear lobe.

A groan saddles my tongue and kicks off in the dust of pleasure. He doesn't need to ask and he knows it.

* * *

I throw myself into the passenger seat of Logan's truck and refuse to keep my excitement under wraps. Christ, I'm fidgeting like crazy. I'm sexually frustrated and the time has come to vanquish the 'I want Logan!' calls coming from my pussy.

Logan slides into the seat beside me and frowns. "Thought you'd taken that shitty job I didn't want you doin'?"

Blinking at him, I throw my hands up. "I've quit it! I quit my job for you, Logan. You want to kiss me again, right? You need to kiss me because I threw the towel in and tried to climb out a window. And it was all for you."

He shakes his head. "Sure you did," he says, tapping his nose. "What I wanna know is why the hell were you climbin' outta the window in the first place?"

There's no way on this earth I'm letting Logan question me tonight. Trust me, if I did that, I'd never be laid and he'd want to chat about why the hell Coma David is here and why I ran. I want to avoid that, so I carefully clamber over to him and straddle his lap.

"Eep," I squeak, almost impaling myself on the gear stick. Okay, I really do want to be impaled by something tonight, but I'm desperate for Logan's elephant trunk, not one of his car parts.

He cocks an eyebrow and I almost wet my panties. "I don't want to wait," I whisper to him, caressing his flannel shirt. "Can't you see I want it hard?" I add, snapping my eyes closed as I chase the blush away.

"Christ, Darlin'," Logan chuckles, tracing his hands down the small of my back. "You're eager for it, ain't ya."

I suddenly feel extremely observant and a bulge oozes and floods Logan's special area. "I'm glad I didn't break it," I smile, my lips brushing against his.

Logan grapples for the button at the side of his seat and smirks as the chair flops backwards. "You really wanna do this here?" he asks, his hands migrating to the belt hugging my jeans to my waist.

"Uh-huh," I reply instantly, yanking my shirt off and with the flick of the wrist, I drop it to his feet. "I want to do this here."

His darkened eyes feast on my breasts squeezed into a bra that's one size too small for me and his hands creep toward the clasp keeping everything under control.

"You real sure about this, Marie? 'Cause once it's off, I ain't holdin' back. I wanna show you what it feels like to be mine."

Gulping as if I'm attempting to stifle and calm a firework in my throat, I nod. I'm completely sure. If you saw me right now, you would know you've never seen anybody as sure as I am, because I'm very sure, hugely sure and I'll always be sure. I will even name our first baby Sure.

He smirks and tweaks a nipple. "Just checkin' it ain't gonna fall off before I get started."

"You heard that?" I blush, thinking back to the day when the baseball hit me and I almost cried tears of mourning.

"Why'd you think I made those punks run twenty laps, huh?"

"You're evil, you know that, right? I bet you're even worse than the Child Catcher," I tease, pecking a kiss to his lips. "And you taste like cigars. I bet the Child Catcher never smoked."

"I'd rest that voice of yours, Marie, 'cause you're gonna need it," Logan growls lowly, bumping his bulge against me.

A sudden and harsh knock on the window makes me squeal. I quickly dive for my shirt as Logan snarls and waits for me to cover my tingling modesty. When I've tugged the shirt over my head and pouted, he growls deeply and winds down the window down.

"Can I help you, Bub?" he says with a crackling growl.

"Step out of the vehicle, Sir," a cop orders Logan, eyeing us both with contempt. "And I need to see your license and registration."

Why is this happening to me? You just wait until I come face-to-face with God! "No, he can't. We're busy!" I tell the cop. "We. Are. Busy. I want to be busy!"

"Marie –"

"Shut up, Logan," I snap tearfully, glaring at the flatfoot with the unattractive buzz cut. "All I wanted to do tonight was have sex. Have you any idea how long I've been waiting for this to happen? And you, Mister-Oh-I'm-a-Cop-Check-Out-My-Shiny-Gun-and-Badge, have ruined a perfect opportunity for me to get laid! We're not criminals; Logan hasn't hurt anybody in a really long time, so leave us alone."

"Jesus Christ," Logan mutters, dragging a hand over his face. He flicks his cigar out the open window and settles me back in my seat.

I feel quite pleased with myself and wait for the cop to reply. But when he does, I don't receive the answer I was waiting for.

"I need you to step out of the vehicle as well, Ma'am. Have you taken any narcotics tonight?"

My face falls and I shake my head. "Do I sound like I'm on drugs?"

Nobody answers.


	13. And Your Bird Can Sing

**_You guys made my day reviewing :) Thanks to Brit-Babe191, Elizav, bologna121, NeenaD91, JimandSteve, wolverette, alexmonalisa, beepersheartsbrucas, Anita (Yay, another new reader!), Soon2Bme and starlight2twilight._**

**_So anyway, a shorter chapter this time. Apologies in advance but forget about the last chapter. This is my new favourite! ;)_**

**_I was sitting in the bank today waiting to be seen. This creepy man kept winking at me but he wasn't wearing dog tags so I glared at him and looked away. LMAO... No, the real reason was that he was a creep, a very old creep! LOL but sitting there for like hours (slight exaggeration) this chapter popped into my head. I'm really not sure what that says about my thoughts on my bank but hey, it made the time pass and I came up with the ending whilst trying to avoid the creep (Shudders)_**

**_

* * *

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**And Your Bird Can Sing**

"I can't believe he arrested us Logan." I grumble with a yawn, belly flopping on to his bed.

"You called the cop an asshole Marie." He snorts, leaning against the door frame and watching me kick off my shoes.

"He deserved it. He asked me how long I had been working on the street for!" I thought the man over reacted completely. I would have thought that he would have been used to people calling him an asshole. I'm sure that it's a regular occurrence, especially if he walks around falsely accusing women of being ten dollar a night hookers.

"You had your top off."

"I may well have done but that doesn't make me a hooker and I don't remember hearing any complaints from you at the time." I point out, sticking out my tongue. "And you weren't exactly polite to the guy either."

Logan acting his usual gruff and growly self told the cop he was a dick after he was asked 'How many nights this week had he spent in his truck being straddled by shirtless women?'

"Are you going to stand there all day?" I ask him.

"Nope." He sighs. "Thought I'd go kick some ass in the danger room."

"And what about me?" I demand, sitting up and throwing a sock at him.

"You need to sleep. You're tired."

"I'm not tired Logan." Ah, I want to have sex!

Then I yawn again, an earth shattering, body crushing yawn... Dammit.

"Sleep." Logan tells me, walking over and kissing me possessively on the lips as I sit in his bed waiting for him to rock my world. Yes, that was slightly cheesy but I'm being driven mad with all this unresolved sexual tension clouding and tormenting me. Can you blame me for not widening my vocabulary?

"But its already light outside." I moan pulling him on top of me, with my hands scrambling for his belt buckle. Ha, the guy has no chance, he never even saw it coming.

Logan's warm hands meanwhile are yet again finding there way to my breasts. I think that somebody is most definitely a breast man.

I groan in pleasure as he fondles and caresses my nipples through my bra. You see? I can think straight when he touches me. I'm not thinking of kneading bread this time... Shit, now I am.

As I finally rip his belt off and throw it to the floor he seizes my wrists and gazes down at me with hazy eyes. "You need to sleep."

"No, what I need is for you to make me scream your name." I reply, silently thanking Jubilee for forcing me to read those trashy romantic novels and there I was thinking that I had wasted hours of my life reading that crap. "Over and over."

He watches me closely and I recognize the signs of an inner battle, he has two choices. He either fucks me or lets me catch up on my neglected sleep and we all know what our choices would be, don't we ladies?

Unfortunately for me, my brain decides that this would be the perfect opportunity to yawn yet again and Logan makes up his mind.

"Oh, you will be." He responds, biting my neck and making my body shudder. "But, for now you need to sleep and I've got a few errands to run." Kissing my bruised lips one last time, he rolls off of me and reaches down for his belt.

"Logaaaan." I whine as he clips his belts on and grabs his weathered leather jacket. "Are you really going to leave me here all alone?"

"Yep."

"Can't I come?"

"Nope."

I huff sullenly and eye him with disgust. "You're torturing me. You know that right?"

He winks at me so damn sexily that I consider knocking him clean off of his feet and taking him right there on the floor. but the moment passes and he's gone leaving me to trail a hand over the bite mark on my neck and think of all the places that I want him to ravish me in. I hear the Bahamas are nice this time of year. Sun, sea, palm trees, cocktails, a hammock and sex... I'm going to die.

* * *

I gave up trying to sleep after three hours of tossing and turning. I've found out that it is impossible to sleep in a bed surrounding by Logan's scent. I can smell him and I want him so badly it is playing havoc with my mind. I was so close last night and yet so far and again this morning. I could see it in his eyes and he wanted me too.

I glance in the mirror wrapping a towel around myself and reaching for the toothbrush. I wish my girls were bigger and slightly more defined. You know perkier, my nipples certainly don't have a problem with perkiness. Especially not when Logan is in the vicinity. Sighing, I begin to brush my teeth. I'm at least happy that the 'Jail grime' has been washed thoroughly off of my skin. I have also shaved my legs, my under arms and have moisturized thoroughly. My pale skin is now silky smooth and I smell like coconut. Seriously, the Bahamas? How utterly amazing would that be? I bet Logan wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of me if I was wearing a bikini, a grass skirt and sipping fresh coconut juice in the scorching hot summer sun.

Peering back into the mirror as I work on my molars, I jump as I catch sight of Logan standing behind me. For a man that weighs as much as he does he can be very quiet when he chooses to be.

He steps closer and snakes his arms around my waist. I pause with the toothbrush still in my mouth and open my lips in question. "Shh." He tells me, his hands stroking my inner thighs as he gently spreads my legs and allows his fingers to enter my most scared of places. I almost bite the head off of my toothbrush as he rubs and rubs and rubs and rubs and rubs and rubs, drawing a gasp of "Logan!" flying out of my lips. He has most certainly gotten rid of the cobwebs I had down there.

I writhe in ecstasy and rock back and forth as his fingers work magic. I have almost reached my limit and I'm on the edge of release when a very disturbing act captures my attention, his fingers have gone.

I glare at Logan's reflection in the mirror as he grins at me smugly. "Maybe you'll listen to me next time I tell you to get some shut eye." He whispers gruffly in my ear.

Not able to utter a single word, let alone form a sentence, I blink, blink and uh blink.

"Now sleep. Trust me darlin' you're gonna need your strength cause later tonight..." He mutters squeezing my left ass cheek. "I'm gonna make you mine." I feel the wetness cool my inner thighs as his words alone drive me to the brink. "Over and over again."

I am going to die. I'm not being dramatic but if I don't get some right now, that's it. It's going to be; 'Here lies Marie, aged twenty one years. Died in Logan's bathroom after he removed his fingers too soon.'

Oh, yeah. A lack of an orgasm can do the strangest of things to a woman.

With a slap to my bare ass he strolls out of the bathroom chuckling to himself. Thirty seconds later I compose myself enough to realize that I am no longer holding my toothbrush. Ah, its down the toilet.

"Logan!" I cry, running after him.

Following him out into the hallway, I shout after his retreating back. "I've just gotten out of the shower you bastard! And you've gone and made me wet! Next time I suggest you keep your fingers to yourself!" But, no. No reaction at all and he carries on walking until he is out of sight. Angrily I turn to walk back into the room and...

This is a very awkward moment because I have an audience.

"Um, hi Mr. and Mrs. Drake. Long time no see." I greet, glaring at an open mouthed Bobby standing beside his parents.

"Yes, it has been awhile hasn't it." Bobby's mom mutters, taking in my appearance of a towel and little else.

"Was that Professor Logan?" Bobby's dad asks me. "Does he still teach art?"

I bite my lower lip to stop myself giggling at the absurdity of Logan teaching an art lesson. Because, Picasso he ain't.

"No." I answer them candidly. "Unlike your son, Logan is a man of many talents."

I stride back into the room with my head held high, ignoring the mortified look on the Ice pricks face and the shocked gasps from his parents. Oh I bet Logan is laughing himself sick right now.

* * *

**_Right, so now that you've read the latest chapter; What do you think?_**

**_I'm not sure how well I'm writing the uh... nudge nudge wink wink scenes LOL So please review. You either love them or hate them. Its just like marmite!_**

**_Anyway I have a bottle of very cheap alcohol waiting for me. So, do I derserve it? _**


	14. A Hard Days Night

**_Aw guys, you reviewed again! I have to say that I'm very pleased to have gained over 100 reviews, so pleased in fact that I wrote an extra long chapter._**

**_Thanks to Soon2Bme, Bastet42, jackmansgrrl, beepersheartsbrucas, JimandSteve, Brit-Babe191 (Go to your bank and write your next chapter!) bologna121, NeenaD91, ElizaV, x-LoganLover-x, starlight2twilight (Obsessed with me? Lol) and alexmonalisa (I love Bulmers pear cider)_**

**_And nice to know the... Uh... Scenes, are going down well :)_**

**This chapter has been edited as of 20/06/2012**

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**A Hard Days Night**

* * *

"Marie, wake up darlin''."

I stir in my sleep, my eyes flicker open and I see Logan, my Logan. Oh, isn't life sweet? Fuck that, it's unbelievably fantastic, no, its marvelous. I'm going to shut up now because I could brag until the cows come home. Logan is mine! My brain screams in excitement but outside I remain calm and collected. so what if Logan's mine? I'm going to take this all in my stride.

"Are we going to have sex now?" I ask him, my head still muddled with sleep.

Okay, so I am bothered. But you won't catch me shouting anything from the rooftops. I'm not that kind of girl.

"You've got one hell of a one tracked mind." Logan tells me, brushing a hand across my cheek and smirking.

"You're an asshole." I inform him, catching his hand in mine. "And a mean, mean tease."

"Jesus, you smell good, Marie."

"I've showered twice today, no thanks to you."

And if its possible, his smirk grows even wider as he falls into bed beside me.

"You're drivin' me crazy. I've been thinkin' about you all day." Logan whispers hoarsely, being driven wild by the scent of coconut and a craving of desire.

Then why won't he make passionate love to me? All I want is for him to make love to me until I scream his name and my throat grows hoarse and depressed by my reluctance to behave in a normal manner. Please fuck me, Logan, please!

"Prove it." I reply, my hand drawing teasing circles on his firm stomach.

Logan's lips smash against mine and his body reacts as I deepen the kiss. "I've been a good girl." I inform him in a small, childlike whisper, pouting as I pull away from him to capture my breath.

"Yeah, you have." He responds, nodding his head and cracking a shit-eating grin.

"I've slept for eight hours straight too, Logan. I have, I really have slept all that time away."

"Uh huh." He grunts, making me feel like he's loving this as I beg and plead with him.

_So fuck me roughly, Logan. Roughly!_ Of course I don't say that aloud, that would be unbelievably unladylike of me and he would smirk at me like he's won the war of sex and strife if I did just that. And do you know what? I don't care, I'm done with this shit!

Before I get my chance to demand that he rides me hard and fast, just like I said last night, he surprises me.

"I got you somethin', thought we could watch it together." Logan says lazily, draping a hand across my middle and gazing at my pouting face.

My first thought is a dirty movie, an adult film, sexually explicit art, porn. No, Logan wouldn't buy that, would he? Oh, I wish he would because ideas of a sexual nature would be planted inside my head like seeds and then I could beg Logan to help me try them out.

"_Pretty Woman_!" I screech excitedly, throwing my arms around his neck as he produces the DVD from a bag beside the bed. "You remembered."

Logan A.K.A The Bad Ass Cage Fighter, wandered into town alone and into an actual store to buy me _Pretty Woman. _Wow, I'm so lucky, and I think I'm going to cry. I'm really going to cry because he loves me.

"But you said you didn't like 'chick flicks' or girlie movies."

"I don't." He snorts in amusement, kissing me on the forehead and wiping the tears away from my eyes before they have a chance to fall. "And don't go cryin' on me, Darlin'. Hell, I was trying to make you happy, not down in the dumps."

"I'm not unhappy, Logan." I sniffle, burying my face in the crook of his beautiful neck. "I'm - This is me being happy."

"If you say so, Marie." He sighs heavily, sounding unsure and hugging me tight.

Aw, he bought this fantastic DVD just me. Logan is the perfect man because he didn't buy porn, he bought a Julia Roberts movie. He's all gruff and growly on the outside, but he has a heart of gold and the most beautiful penis I have ever seen. Oh no, not again.

* * *

I rest in Logan's arms with my head sitting on his chest as we watch _Pretty Woman_ from the comfort of his bed. As the credits draw to a close I've noticed two things: he has smoked sixteen cigars in less than two hours and my hands are yet again grasping his belt buckle. They've been grasping and stroking the cool metal for the entire movie and he hasn't said a word.

"So, what did you think?" I ask him, rubbing my pale cheek against his nipple because I can.

"I think it went on too damn long and I ain't never seen a hooker that looked like that." Logan answers, tugging the white streak in my hair gently and rolling his eyes.

"Oh really?" I scoff, pulling an unsure and nervous face at his answer. "And just how many hookers have you had the pleasure of meeting?"

"A few." He admits, seemingly tight lipped at the true number as he sniffs the air around him.

Yeah, only a few and I bet he never left them hanging about when they were on the midst of an orgasm and so, so, so close to the pay off. Yes, I'm sure he treated their sexual needs better than he treats mine.

I unbuckle his belt and undo the button of his denim jeans much to his amazement. His eyes flicker to mine and he raises a bushy eyebrow in question. Oh, its about time I taught this bastard a lesson. You can't mess with the Rogue and get away with it. "

Marie..." He rumbles, his eyes darkening with lust.

"Shh!" I hush him, my hand inching closer to his pride and very large joyful joy. No, it's his Logan Junior. Um, his bub? "You're not wearing any underwear." Not that it surprises me, Logan seems the type to go commando. Well, if there is such thing as a type.

As I blindly stroke the length of my new favourite toy, Logan grits his teeth in pleasure and rattles off an endless amount of compliments and the words "Fuck, Baby!" bring a satisfied smirk to my face that would have made Logan proud. If he had seen it that is, he has his eyes closed and... Shit!

Why does everybody have the ability to get off except me? Its just not fair! Not fair at all! I obviously didn't realise that Logan would, uh, reach his climax so soon and decorate my hand with his appreciation. This was not how my plan was supposed to work. I was going to tease him, not make his damn day.

I spring from the bed and leave a very happy and content Logan behind so I can wash my hands under the tap. I'm really on the edge here and it isn't fun in the slightest. Patting my hands dry with a towel, I pad softly back into the room and stand at the foot of the bed where Logan is slipping on his belt.

"That was good, Darlin'." He compliments, placing his hands on my hips and pulling me to stand between his thighs. "Real good."

"I'm glad you liked it, Logan." I reply sarcastically, frowning down at him and huffing because life isn't fair. "So, when is it my turn? You said later and if you haven't noticed it's already dark outside. That means it's now later and I want in now rather than later."

Logan glances at the clock and rests his calloused hands on my shapely ass. "I told 'Ro we'd make an appearance at dinner, Marie. Promised her, too."

Maybe I'm going slightly deaf a little earlier in life then I planned. Blasting music loud enough to demolish the mansion has finally caught up with me it seems. Yes, that must be it, or an enormous lack of sexual pleasure has caused my hearing to deteriorate and I can no longer hear clearly, because I'm sure that Logan just told me that we were joining the X-Men for dinner.

"Dinner?" I mutter with saucer-eyes and a half growl. "As in that formal dinner Storm was planning with the Drakes? Mr and Mrs Drake, who happen to be Bobby Drakes parents? The same Bobby Drake who broke my heart and made me want to slice every males balls off in a fit of rage?"

"Yeah." Logan answers calmly, slapping my ass twice and scowling. "You'd better not have thought of ripping my balls off, Darlin'."

I rub the sting away from my bottom and match his scowl. "There's no fucking way I'm doing that!" I shriek loudly and cross my arms.

"Well, Storm wants us there." He shrugs, standing up and stalking toward the door. "Come on, we're gonna be too late to make a dent in the beer."

"No, she wants you there." I counter with simmering rage, refusing to even contemplate wasting my time downstairs. "And I didn't agree to anything with anybody, Logan."

"Just move your damn ass, Kid. I want a beer and you need some humility."

He called me a kid again! He called me 'Kid' and he knows I hate that, especially when we're sleeping together. It's another way to tell me he doesn't value my opinions. "How can you call me 'Kid' when I gave you the best handjob of your life?"

Logan opens the door and tosses an irritated look over his tense shoulder. "You're acting like one, Marie. And that job don't come into my decision making."

"I'm not acting like a kid!" I repeat furiously, my voice raising several decibels. "I didn't agree to anything and you've sprung this on my deliberately, Logan! That's why you bought that DVD. It was a bribe!"

The man heaves a heavy sigh and clenches his fists. "Shift your goddamn ass, girl, and quit tryin' to work me out because you're way off base right now. I don't do bribes, Darlin'."

"But we had plans tonight, Logan, and I'm not changing them because of the damn Drakes!" Nope, that is seriously not happening while I have a say in my life and breath in my body. I wholeheartedly plan to get laid, not once, not twice, but many, many times tonight. If I don't kill Logan first that is. This had better lead to makeup sex, because I do believe we're having our first 'Hell yeah, we're a couple!' fight.

Logan gazes at me harshly and strides over, kissing me roughly on the lips and claiming every inch of my mouth. "We ain't gonna change our plans, you hear?"

"You promise?" I ask suspiciously, hugging him tightly and still wanting to wring his muscular neck.

"Yeah, I promise." He answers gruffly, wrapping his arms around me and tossing me over his shoulder. "You're also going to that dinner even if I have to carry you, Marie. The beer ain't enough to stop me going stir crazy with that family."

"I hate you, Logan." I hiss grumpily, folding my arms and huffing.

"Yeah, course you do, Darlin'. Course you do." He chuckles, carrying me off down to the formal dining room

* * *

Fucking flaming hell, how long does one dinner party have to go on for? I never used to be this impatient, but maybe its the promise of some alone time with Logan that has got me so jittery, yet slightly irritable. I want to run around the room and staple everybody's mouth shut because the more they talk, the longer this snooze feast will rumble on for.

It's not that I would rather be anywhere in the world right now then here... No, actually, yes it is. I would rather be anywhere else in the world but here. There are so many places that appeal to me, like Logan's bed. Logan's bed would be absolutely, one hundred percent be number one in my list of ultimate places to be during a pointless formal dinner from Hell.

"Rogue?" Storms calls softly, interrupting my high charged and sexually tense thoughts. "I said can you please pass the peas?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure. Of course I can." I mumble in a slightly embarrassed tone when I feel everybody's eyes on me.

I pass Storm the bowl of peas and nudge the food about on my plate with my fork. I'm just not in the mood for eating, I want to be writhing and panting under Logan. I want to be made to scream his name as I see shimmering stars of pleasure dangle before my very eyes. Oooh, I know what else dangles too!

A hand glides across my thigh and it stops dangerously close to my whoohoo, making me splutter on my tongue. No, he can't, not here! With a single lustful look in his direction, I try to scoot my chair away from Logan, but he curls his foot around my chair leg and halts my escape.

"I can smell you, Darlin'." He whispers huskily in my ear as the idle chatter continues around us. "You're already wet for me, ain't you? Such a naughty girl thinking about my cock when you should be joining in with all this talk."

My first thought as I feel his hand trace the trim of my panties is; Why the hell did I wear a skirt? My second thought is lost as those two evil fingers of his enter me and I bite back a helpless gasp.

In sheer terror somebody will find out what's happening, I force a bread roll into my mouth to stop my giddy self from crying out. I am going to kill him. I know this dinner party is as boring as Hell, but he's doing this on purpose to play with me.

"Rogue, are you okay?" Hank asks me in a mildly concerned tone. "You look a little flushed."

The entire table of guests all watch me with varying looks ranging from worried, curious and smug.

"She's fine." Logan responds, raising an eyebrow at me and winking. "Ain't you, Darlin'?"

I nod my head, not trusting myself to speak and the conversation starts up again, meaning that I am no longer the main attraction. Jubilee continues to watch me for a little while longer, but turns and also joins in with the chatter.

He continues to caress my folds and sip his beer as dessert is brought around the table. While I'm, well, I'm having the time of my life. I will never refuse to attend another dinner party again if this is what I can look forward to.

But then, once again, his fingers disappear and my fun is over for the moment. I glare at him as he leans over and whispers huskily in my ear. "Now you've got a reason to be wet."

"You sir, are a tyrant." I reply huffily, shifting in my seat as the wetness seeps into my panties and leaves me feeling uncomfortable, really fucking uncomfortable.

"I've been called worse." He snorts, slouching back in his chair, beer bottle in hand.

Oh, I bet he damn well has. I wonder if he would agree to an encore, because that was heaven on a plate of gold plated chips with chicken and chili sauce. But before I have a chance to ask him, something smashes my attention in the face with a baseball bat.

"We thought it would be better if Ronnie didn't come this time." I overhear Bobby's mom saying to Storm, a large wine glass nursing in her bony, freckled hand.

Yes, Ronnie, the dark sheep of the family and the boy that caused Logan to be shot in the head right in front of me. I had never been so scared in all my life and it was because that prick-less wonder contacted the police and blatantly lied to them!

"He's staying with his grandparents in Sacramento-"

"I hope they don't have a telephone." I declare rudely, silence decending over the room as everyone stares at me again.

"I don't understand?" Bobby's mom replies, her lips pursing over the edge of her wine glass.

What the hell does she mean she doesn't understand? Are handsome mutants shot in the head on her front porch daily?

"Well, the next person that gets shot in the head on your doorstep might not be so lucky." I retort, propping my elbows up on the table.

"Rogue, I don't think this is the time for a talk like this." Storm sighs, attempting to calm the situation and pacify my growing anger at the family sitting across the table from me.

"Have you even apologised to Logan yet?" I question Mrs. Drake as she finishes her glass of wine and pours yet another.

"My Ronnie didn't mean any harm by it and your Professor Logan looks good for a man that was shot in the head." She smiles, waving a hand at my lover.

She fucking smiled! She smiled at me when her son in an utter brainless, dickless nutcase!

"I would wipe that smile off your face if I were you, lady." I snarl in warning, my knuckles turning sheer white as I grip my bottle of beer in enormous fury.

"Rogue!" Logan growls sharply. "Not here, Darlin'. Not tonight."'

"What the heck are you talking about, Logan?" I cry indignantly, glaring at him. "You were shot dead thanks to her son and she's smiling at me gormlessly!" Christ, she had better stop smiling or I won't be held responsible for my actions.

"I understand you would be upset by recent events, Rogue, but don't talk to my wife like that." Bobby's dad orders me, pointing a stubby finger in my direction. "I'm telling you that much."

"Or what, Bub?" Logan demands angrily, slamming his bottle on the table with his eyes boring into Mr. Drake. "What you plannin' on doing to my girl?"

"I - I don't know." He stammers suddenly, looking very small as he attempts to hide behind his wife.

"I think we all need to calm down." Ororo announces regally, standing to her feet and holding out her hands. "Please, this is supposed to be a pleasant evening."

"What recent events?" Jubilee asks, her brow crinkling curiously. "What did he mean by Roguey would be upset by recent events?"

She has a point, what did he mean by that? I glance at the Drakes and Bobby seems to have paled slightly. "Yeah, what did you mean, Mr. Drake?" I quiz stubbornly, all thoughts of mind blowing sex now forgotten in my quest.

"You and my son." He answers, weary of Logan growling beside me. "Bobby talked about your relationship with us this morning and I'm sure you feel guilty about the way you behaved toward him, but he had every right to break up with you."

There have been many times in my life that I have been angry. Like the time I failed math because my teacher disliked me or my parents reaction to my mutation and when Magneto kidnapped me, but this puts every one of them in the shade. I think it's about time I make another speech, because I'm excellent at speeches in front of stupid crowds.

I leap to my feet and march over to Bobby fucking Drake while entertaining thoughts of killing him right there and then, but where would be the fun in that?

"Now you listen up, because I'm only going to say this once!" I hiss furiously, my face inches from his. "You were the biggest mistake of my life. I've moved on and have found someone that makes me scream in pleasure with just one touch!" I wave my hand in his face to drive home the message. "One touch, Bobby. You could never do that, could you? I thought all men were afflicted with small, tiny, little todgers, but hey, it must run in the family." I frown, peering at Mr. Drake.

"And you two!" I address the senior Drake's. "I never cheated on your son, he cheated on me. I really don't think I should say this, but hey, we're all friends here, right? He obviously learnt that behaviour from somewhere! I'm on the right path aren't I, Mrs. Drake? How long have you been banging the butcher again? Before Bobby was born is the answer I was searching for!"

She sputters and spits as her husband jumps to his feet and all hell brakes lose as he rants and raves.

A hand grips my arm and tugs me to the door. "Jesus Christ, Marie." Logan sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his tired face. We walk out the room with earsplitting voices following us up the stairs. "That's the last time I make you go to one of those fancy dinners."

* * *

"Have things calmed down now?" I timidly ask Logan, wondering if he's still mad at me, as he slips into bed beside me.

"Kinda," He replies, stretching out and settling down for the night. "The Drakes are just about leavin'."

"Good. That's the best news I've heard all year."

"_Separately_."

"Oh, okay, fine. Maybe I went a little overboard." I mutter softly, curling into his side and brushing a hand over his solid chest.

"Nah, you didn't and they'll get over it." Logan grunts, gazing at the ceiling with a stony look. "Just like I got over the hole in my head. You did good tonight, Girl. Don't listen to Storm or the Drakes, you did good."

I chew on my lip for a moment and soak up his words with a half smile. He thinks I 'did good' and that sends warm, fuzzy feelings through my cracked and crazy soul. "Logan, at the risk of sounding obsessed, are we going to do it now?"

I hear him sigh heavily and he begins to stroke my hair. "He hurt you, Darlin'."

"Who?" I question curiously, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"The ice prick. He hurt you."

"I don't want to talk about Bobby! I'm sick to death of hearing that name, Logan. I don't want to talk about that idiot!"

"Well I do." He grunts simply, patting my head and sighing.

"Logaaaaan!" I whine, sitting up in a flash and watching him with a pleading look of growing despair. "I'm here in your bed, so why are we not having sex? I want sex! Please, let's have sex."

"Marie," Logan orders gruffly, resting his hands on my hips. He lifts me onto his lap so I'm straddling him and cups my face, forcing our eyes to meet. "You listen to me."

"I said I'd take care of you, Darlin', and that's what I'm gonna do." Logan reveals to me testily, his eyes hardening at every word. "Even if I have to protect you from me."

"But this isn't what your promise meant! And I want to have sex with you."

"I ain't sayin' this is a bad idea of sorts, but we need to take this slow. I don't wanna hurt you."

"You're not going to hurt me, Logan." I reply steadily, trying to keep the disappointment from creeping into my voice.

"You don't know that." He responds flippantly, holding me close. "And I ain't gonna chance it, Girl. We take this slow."

"Whatever you want." I huff in disappointment because there will be no sex for me then, not tonight anyway. And yet I can't stay mad at Logan because many other men in his position would have fucked me straight away, without their conscience being bothered in the slightest. I know people think that Logan is a temperamental ass, but when he's around me he has always shown a more caring side.

I kiss him on the lips and lay back down. Hmm, I wonder if Jubilee would like to go shopping tomorrow?


	15. Can't Buy Me Love

**_A thank you to JimandSteve, alexmonalisa (Vodka and Xmen... Now thats a night in! I remember Xmen 1 was on the TV once at the pub. No sound though! My friend thought I was rude cause she kept talking to me and I was looking at the TV, not listening LOL), ElizaV (I made it up!), I'mYourChemicalRomance, bologna121, NeenaD91 (I'm thinking I can drag this story on for a number of years :P), Soon2Bme (No not Jeans or long sleeved tops) , starlight2twilight (Drugs!?) , Taekwon-do Lover (I feel sorry for you if you work in an office, do you watch the clock and wish it was home time already? LOL) and dancingt21 (You'll be ok. I think the spleen is considered one of those useless organs ;) and yes, he's a butthead LMAO)_**

**_As always I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)_**

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**Can't Buy Me Love**

"Go have fun." Logan told me, he handed me his credit card, kissed me on the lips and then left. He had a class to teach and I was at a loose end.

So, this is how myself and Jubilation Lee found ourselves shopping in a shop. A shop full of objects that you can buy and I had my man's credit card. I had an unlimited amount of money at my finger tips... the banks money but its money, money, money. How couldn't I have been tempted to shop till I drop?

"Stop blushing Chica." Jubilee demands. "Anyone would think that you've never been here before."

"I haven't." I whisper.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because I... Oh I don't know. I just don't think that people should raise their voices in here."

"You're never going to get laid if you blush at stuff like this!" She cries openly pointing out a shelf full of dyes for down there. "Look, they have a yellow dye!"

Why did I ever agree to set foot in this store? I don't think Logan had this in mind when he gave me his card. "I quite like the hot pink dye." I tell her reading the instructions on the side of the bottle.

_This pack contains enough for two applications. No mess, no drip, lasts for four to five weeks. Become the porn star of your dreams.._. What the heck? A porn star? Oh, its endorsed by the porn star society of America.

I place the bottle back on to the shelf and continue to browse. Jubilee's right, I have to overcome my embarrassment. I'm only walking around a sex store and entirely surrounded by sex toys. There's nothing out of the ordinary. Just sexy clothes, erotic lingerie, flavoured massage oils, kinky costumes, blow up dolls and penis rings. What is so discomfiting about that?

"Hey!" Jubilee shouts from the counter. "This one glows in the dark!" Please, kill me now. Jubes is waving around a glow in the dark vibrator. The shame, the shame of it all.

I make my way over to her thankful that we happen to be the only customers and gaze through the glass. Wow, there are an awful lots of vibrators and so many colours and shapes.

"Look at that one Roguey!" Jubes squeals clapping her hands together. "Are those real diamonds?"

"Yes." A lady appears from the back room and unlocks the counter removing the diamond encrusted fuschia coloured vibrator. She places it gently on top of the counter and Jubes and me, well we're in a trance. I think we're both drooling at the sight of all those diamonds coating the handle. "This vibrator is top of the line and its big in Hollywood. Name any female star and you can bet your bottom dollar that she is using one of these."

"Roguey?"

"Mmmm?"

"Pinch me."

I turn to stare at Jubilee. "What, why?"

"Paris Hilton has this. I read it in Cosmo, she has this exact same dildo Chica!"

"I'm sure she can afford it." I reply, watching the beautiful vibrator with a touch of hunger in my eyes. "I want it." I blurt out, shocking both the sales woman and my best friend.

"You have one thousand dollars to spend on a vibrator?" The sales woman asks somewhat taken aback.

"Yes. Do you take cards?" The lady nods. "Good. So, what else have you got?"

If Logan isn't man enough to please me sexually then I will have to turn to other methods. Maybe the realization that his girl is taking matters into her own hands will be the catalyst he needs to throw me over his shoulder and take me to bed.

"You have got to buy this!" I hear Jubilee shriek.

I'm starting to pray that Logan's credit card has the funds to cope with such an extravagant spending spree.

* * *

"I can't believe that you bought all that." Jubilation Lee informs me as we walk to her car bags in hand. I just can't believe that I went in that store to begin with, let alone bought anything. "And that french maids costume is hot. The stockings and suspenders are mega hot. The corset is hot, hot, hot and the vibrator is so..."

"Hot?" I ask her, interrupting her excited rant.

"Yeah girl. Wolvie is going to choke on his tongue, he won't be able to keep his hands off of you".

"Hmm, I liked to think so."

"Marie?" The voice stops me in my tracks and I swing around and come face to face with an unwelcome blast from the past. "I thought that was you."

"David." I greet politely, silently pleading with Jubilee for help. "How are you?"

"I'm good." He smiles eyes twinkling. "You look great." Crap, crap, crap. I don't have time for this; there is a vibrator sized shape burning a hole in my bag. When I'd rather it be burning a hole elsewhere.

"What are you doing here?" I question him, refusing to returning his smile or without even thanking him for the compliment.

"I'm starting college here in the fall. So, I came to check out the housing."

David is starting college here in the fall? Why? Aren't there any half decent schools for him to go to in the south?

"Oh." I mutter lost for words.

"You're coma David!" Jubilee splutters with her eyes wide in disbelief. "Dude, you must have it real bad if you followed her out here. Especially after she nearly killed your horny ass."

I groan inwardly at her choice of words. what is wrong with her? "He didn't know I was here. Did you?"

"No." David admits. "Your parents still think that you're somewhere in Anchorage."

"Oh." I mutter once again. "And that's the way that it's going to stay. I'll see you around."

"Marie, Wait."

"What is it David?" I quiz yet again stopping and facing him.

"Maybe we could go out for a drink sometime. Look, I know that things didn't go well the last time. But here's my cell number if you feel up for it." He scribbles down his number on the back of a Kmart receipt and hands it to me.

"Whoa girl. You never said that he was hot." Jubilee announces as we watch him walk away.

I don't think that any Judge or Jury in this country would convict me of homicide if I happened to strangle Jubilee to death right now. I won't be able to hold back if I hear the fucking word 'Hot' one more time.

* * *

I have stashed most of my newly bought items in my wardrobe, except for one. The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator; that's with me in Logan's bathroom. He's still teaching and I have the room to myself, thank God. Can you imagine trying to do this in front of an audience? I thought not. I would probably suffer from an acute case of stage fright.

Right, so how do you do this exactly? Is there some kind of woman's protocol to getting frisky with a diamond encrusted vibrating toy? I glare at the box but nope it is not caving in and supplying me with the instructions. Um, its not really rocket science is it. All I need to do is turn it on and... You know the rest. You're all filthy minded and have the added advantage of watching a demonstration on YouTube. I fiddle with the dildo of enormous beauty and scrunch my brow in confusion. Where is the on button?

It does not have an on button. No, it must have an on button I scold myself, I am just being blinded by its beauty and....where the fuck is the button!?

I twirl it around in my hands and I'm hypnotized by the sparkle of the diamonds. I have never seen such exquisite gems in all my life. Why would any sane woman choose a diamond ring over this? If I can get it to work then there really will be a new meaning to the saying 'Diamonds are a girls best friend.'

"What you doin' darlin'?" A gruff voice questions from the doorway.

"Logan!" I cry dropping the vibrator in shock and pulling up my panties. I feel like I'm a little girl that has been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Honestly, when did my life become a series of cringe worthy events?

"What am I doing?" I repeat gazing at the dildo vibrating across the tiled floor of the bathroom. Now that is just unfair. Why didn't the box state that all you had to do was drop it in fright and then it would work?

Logan steps towards my expensive piece of erotic equipment that is having a ball circling the floor and apprehends it.

"I was... Well I... It was all... I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary." I stammer, causing him to raise an eyebrow at my reddening face.

"It looked to me like you were tryin' to jerk yourself off." He snorts, switching the vibrator off. I have been looking for that button for over half an hour and he finds it just like that. Ugh, it must have been hiding from me. Yes, that is it. The button was hiding from me.

"Jerk myself off? No, not at all. I... No, you've got it all wrong." One look from an unconvinced Logan and I change my tune. "I might have been. I felt... Well, I deserve to... I do have needs you know!"

Logan watches me carefully for all of thirty seconds, then strides out of the bathroom still clutching The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator. He returns a few minutes later dildo free and stalks over, lifting me off of my feet without a word. "Where my beautiful vibrator?" I ask him, my head resting against his chest as he carries me to his bed bridal style.

"You're beautiful when you blush." He whispers in my ear as he lies me on the bed.

Being called beautiful is all well and good. But having now only considered the fact that Logan is going to flip his lid when he receives his credit card bill in the post, I'm more than tempted to move states until it all blows over. "What did you do with it?"

"Forget about the damn vibrator." Logan growls, his fingers looping around the waistband of my Bridget Jones style pants. "I ain't lettin' my girl jerk herself off. I said we should take it slow. I never said no touchin'." He says as he slowly removes my underwear. "I'm gonna teach you a lesson that you'll never forget Marie."

I buck in astonishment as his fingers enter me harshly, moaning in unadulterated pleasure as he expertly gets to work. I have a feeling that I'm going to enjoy this lesson thoroughly and the purpose of this you ask? Well, its to teach me that I can't buy love or pleasure. Especially not in a sex store with Logan's credit card and Jubilation Lee along for company.


	16. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

**_Thanks to the following reviewers: ElizaV, Brit-Babe191, dancingt21, NeenaD91, Soon2Bme, Bologna121, JimandSteve, beepersheartsbrucas (Americans and their shopping trolleys lol) alexmonalisa, serena001 and SarahTee._**

**_Okay, so I've been rather stuck with this chapter for the past couple of days. But have finally finished it!_**

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**Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds**

"Your mission if you chose to except it is to obtain the The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator that Logan has squirreled away in his room. Can I say squirreled away?" I ask Jubilee from my spot on her bed.

"No. Tom Cruise would never take you seriously if you used a word like squirreled." She scoffs reading her beloved Cosmo. "Anyway, Wolvie's only hidden your dildo. Who cares."

"I do." I huff, sitting up and scowling at her. "And so will he when he receives his credit card bill." It's been two weeks since the visit to the sex store and if my calculations are correct Logan will be blowing a fuse tomorrow morning. "If I can find the Vibrator and return it to the store, get a refund and Logan will be none the wiser... Sort of."

"I don't think you can take a dildo back to the store Roguey, its unsanitary."

"I haven't used it Jubes!" I cry irked at the thought of me; Marie returning a used and thoroughly abused Vibrator to a store.

"Then you girl are crazier then you look." Jubilee grins at herself her head deep in the pages of her magazine. "Honestly, you spend a thousand bucks on a dildo and don't use it. Heck, that's a sin."

"Okay." I sigh my head in my hands. "I take it that you're not going to help me."

"Wolvie catches me in his room he's going to skin me alive."

"Yeah well, I might just do that if you don't help me." I retort getting off the bed and snatching the magazine away from her.

"Hey!" She shouts. "I was reading that."

"Jubilee, this is serious. Where the hell am I going to get one thousand dollars from?"

"I'll tell you what. Me and Mel are hitting a club downtown later, its fancy dress. You need to come and let your hair down."

I throw the magazine at Jubilee and open the door. "I'll think about it." I tell her with a smile. I might just need a drink if I can't find that damn vibrator. I cannot believe that Jubilee turned down the mission. Ethan Hunt would be appalled.

* * *

I have looked everywhere I can think of in that room and I can't find it. It's disappeared, like magic. Ha, maybe this is Hogwarts after all. Is there a possibility that Logan really won't have a spitting fit when he opens his credit card bill? He could laugh it off... Make a joke. Um, no I think I'm confusing Logan with someone that has a sense of humour. That and I forgot about that temper of his.

I walk into the kitchen in the hope of finding some inspiration because I'm so very desperate. Is there anything in here that can inspire me? Please, can something inspire me? Where does a feral mutant hide a vibrator?

I hear high pitched, shrill cackling from the corner of the room as I open the refrigerator door. Oh, its Kitty and Bobby. This day just keeps getting better and better.

"Is there a reason why you keep looking at me?"I demand feeling their beady eyes boring into the back of my head.

"I never knew that Logan liked diamonds." Kitty Pryde smiles and her voice is ever so grating. I would love to punch... Logan and diamonds? Shit. "I guess you learn something new everyday."

"Now that you have my full attention." I announce with my hands on my hips. "Tell me what this is about." Yeah, that's right. Play dumb.

An abashed Bobby stands to his feet and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. "It was an accident. I thought it was my letter and I didn't realize until it was too late."

"That's Logan's credit card bill." I hiss glaring at them both. Holy crap, I must have miscalculated. "How long have you had it?"

"Two days." Kitty smirks. "It's ever so interesting to read."

Now I really do want to punch her. "Hand it over ice prick." I demand stepping towards him in what I hope is an intimidating manner. I'm sure I can it pull off. Bobby would never mess with me... Well, until he cheated on me with one of my so called best friends that is.

"What's goin' on?" A dreaded voice asks from behind us. Fucking hell, this has to be the month from hell.

"Nothing." I answer snatching the bill out of Bobby's hand much to his surprise. "Nothing at all."

"You sure about that?" Logan grunts with that ever so sexy arched eyebrow.

"Um, well..."

"Yes!" I yell over Ice pricks attempt at an explanation. Now, I need to rid myself of the evidence. That sounds so very weird. I'm so glad that there are no telepaths around, they would mistake me for a homicidal maniac. Great and now I feel guilty for thinking that.

"Whats that?" He nods at the letter in my hand.

"Nothing Logan."

"I... I didn't know it was your credit card bill." Bobby stammers looking terrified. "I was going to give it back."

Can anyone say: Oh- My- Fucking- God- I- Am- So -Dead- because -I -bought -The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator.

I glance at Logan, then at the bill, then at Logan again. "My credit card bill?" Logan growls glaring at Bobby and Kitty. Aw, look at Kitty shrinking back in her chair.

"It's all yours sugar." I inform him as he turns his glare on me. "Don't tell me that I never give you anything."

I give him his enormously high bill and slowly back away to the door. Logan blinks twice, growls, clears his throat and growls some more while his hands shake with rage. How long does it take him to read it?

I decide that the safest course of action is to run, run and hide until Wolvie has calmed down. "MARIE!". He bellows. Shit, that might take a while.

* * *

Logan thankfully had to leave with Storm on a secret, hush hush, we will explain everything later mission . I just feel sorry for Ororo having to sit in the X-jet for a number of hours with a very pissed off Wolverine.

But, that means I'm once again on my own for the night and Jubilee did invite me out to a club didn't she? I deserve a drink, only one drink mind you. I don't want to embarrass myself. I Marie D'Ancanto cannot hold my liquor. Okay, so I'll probably have more than one drink. How about two? No three! I did after all live to fight another day. Logan didn't kill me did he.

More importantly... What on earth am I going to dress up as?

* * *

'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup'

Damn it. How do you get rid of the hiccups? I think you hold your breath don't you? I stand still and breathe in deeply 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12... "Fuck." I'm going to suffocate.

'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup' 'Hiccup'

"FUCK!" I scream staggering down the mansions awfully long graveled drive. I admit that I had more than one drink. I remember drinking a nasty shot and another, then another and a couple more... And more... Where was I again?

'Hiccup' Yes a lot of liquor shots. 'Hiccup' All the colours of the rainbow. 'Hiccup'. They tasted...'Hiccup' like... 'Hiccup' liquor.

I wobble drunkenly as I climb the steps to the imposing front door and fall flat on my face. 'Hiccup' "I think I'm drunk." I say to myself adding another 'Hiccup' for good measure. I could easily sleep here. I'm sure that I don't mind... Do I? No I don't, here is very, very, very, very, very... Um...

"Rogue?"

"Oui, Bonjour." I mutter lifting my head off of the comfortable concrete. I have no idea who that is but they sure do know me. "Uh, d... Do I have the right mansion?" I swear all these large houses look the same when you're absolutely shit faced. Jubilee and Mel dropped me off at the gates... I think that Jubes has gone to stay around Mel's for the night... I think.

"Yes, you have the right mansion." The man smiles gazing down at me from his position at the door. "I think you must be rather chilly dressed like that. Would you like to come in?"

"I'm a french maid Monsieur. We french maids are used to the cold."

'Hiccup'

"I see."

'Hiccup' 'Hiccup'

"Zut alors." I groan my head swimming with liquor shots and french verbs.

"I'm glad the french classes came in handy Rogue." Hmm, the man sounds pleased that I can still speak french. I was always at the top of the class.

"Yes, you were Miss D'Ancanto." Oh, did I say that out loud?

"No, you didn't. Would you like a hand?"

'Hiccup'

"Do I know you?" I ask looking in to all four of his twinkling eyes. Ugh, why did I drink? His eyes remind me of my Grandpa's.

'Hiccup'

"I suppose I would be old enough to be your grandfather." He chuckles. "I'm Charles Xavier."

This man is Charles Xavier? I... Um... What was in that liquor? "Merci for scaring away my hiccups Monsieur but the Professor... He... He had no legs." I mumble my face hitting the cool ground once more.

I sigh into my hand and close my eyes. "I think that you're mistaken. I was unable to use my legs but I'm now in a different body."

"Ouais, Ouais." I yawn. "That sounds like a scene out of one of those Hollywood movies with super heroes and stuff."

"Yes, I believe it does. Would you like me to call Logan?"

"Mmm Logan."

* * *

"Marie, you can't sleep here." A rough hand shakes me awake and I drowsily eye the idiot that dares wake me.

"Tu me peles le jonc." I whisper shooing him away with a hand as he crouches beside me.

"What did she say?" Logan asks the imposter.

"She said you get on her nerves." He replies with a raised brow and a smile.

"Yeah, well she ain't exactly charmin' at times either."

"Tu es completement debile." I snarl attempting to scramble to my feet and get as far away from Logan as I can.

Again Logan looks to the man for a translation. "You're a complete moron." The man chuckles. "I'm amazed that she can remember these phrases in her condition."

"That does it." Logan growls wrapping an arm around my waist. "You need to sleep the damn booze off."

"I'm a repressed french maid Logan, not a charity case." I mumble stumbling into the mansion with a strong arm holding me up.

"You're drunk that's what you are." He snorts in my ear.

"Je suis simplement fatigué." I say wriggling out of his grip and stepping carefully to the foot of the stairs. I might be drunk but I can walk on my own thank you very much.

"Tired my ass." So he does know some french. I suppose he's Canadian after all. "Where's your yellow friend?"

"Elvis Presley went back to... To... Wonder Woman's apartment." Jubilee was dressed as Wonder Woman, complete with the kick ass hooker boots and Mel was Elvis 'Thank you, thank you very much' Presley. "No... Wonder went to Elvis's place for the night." I giggle winking flirtatiously and marching over to Logan. Please don't let me fall flat on my face again. "How about we head up stairs?" I ask him brushing a hand across his heavy set jaw.

He places his hands to my hips and smirks at me. "The Wolverine and the french maid huh?"

"Oui" I reply kissing him on the lips and resting a hand in his back pocket.

"What is it Chuck?" Logan sighs gazing over my head as I snuggle into his shirt. "Can't you see we're busy."

"That's not the Professor." I mutter into the warm fabric. "Charlie had no legs."

"I'm sorry to interrupt but we have a meeting in my office in ten minutes."

"I know." Logan grunts. "I'll be there." But I want to have fun with my man. If this guy was really the Professor I'm sure that he wouldn't be so selfish. Even Charles Xavier had needs.

"I can assure you that I'm Charles Xavier Rogue and yes even I have needs." Is this going to be one of those statements that I'm really going to regret when I wake up sober?

"Come on darlin' lets get you to bed."

"Are you still mad about the vibrator?" I question him as he sweeps me off my feet and carries me up the stairs.

"No." He growls staring straight ahead.

"Do you mean Oui?"

"No, I mean no."

"Logan." I declare incoherently my head lolling to one side as I try to gaze at him. I'm so very drunk and so very sleepy. "Je t'aime."

"Me to darlin'." Logan whispers with a shadow of a smile twitching on his lips. "Me too."

'Hiccup'

* * *

**_Oh, I do love drunken french maid Rogue (Grins) and the Professor's back and he has legs LMFAO _**

**_You now all know how to say 'You're a complete moron' in french! "Tu es completement debile"_**


	17. When I'm Sixty Four

**_Thanks to all those that reviewed: Brit-Babe191, FreakyGeek13, JimandSteve, I'mYourChemicalRomance, ElizaV, luvdatman, beepersheartsbrucas, Soon2Bme, dancingt21, Bologna121, alexmonalisa, NeenaD91, Cherish15 and Thorn :)_**

**_And I'm hoping that you like the new, hastily written chapter LOL!

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**When I'm Sixty Four**

I groan underneath Logan's body as he thrusts harder into me. He works up a momentum. His eyes are closed and I wrap my legs around his waist my body shimmering with perspiration. He slams harder, harder and harder until...

What is that smell?

My eyes flicker open and I groan, not in unspoken pleasure but a realization has hit me. It was a dream, only a dream. I turn on my side as my brain hammers against my skull. Aw fuck I'm so hungover. I think I might be dying. Why do I smell bacon? Ugh, I really am going to be sick. I cannot stand the smell of food when I'm recovering from a night of drinking and dancing. It's just a shame my night wasn't filled with sex rather than a great many shots of hard liquor. I need to learn to say no to Jubilee.

"Hey darlin', how you feelin'?"

I open one eye and gaze at Logan standing over me with a tray of food held in his hands. "Ugh."

"That good huh?" He chuckles placing the tray on the bedside table and sitting on the bed. "You have a nice sleep?"

"Mmm"

"Thought so. You were moanin' pretty loud."

Oh God, I was moaning in my sleep. I was dreaming and that dream with Logan was... I hope for his sake that I 'm not disappointed when the time finally comes. I don't answer and pull the covers over my head, the sunlight is absolutely awful. "Shut the curtains." I whine from the comfort of the darkness.

"No can do. Chuck wants to see us." Logan announces gruffly tugging the sheets back playfully.

"Who?" I ask squinting at him.

"Chuck. The Professor."

"But the Professor is de... FUCK!" I cry sitting up and wincing as my head pounds at the sudden movement. "He's alive? With legs and everything?!"

"Yep." He says smirking at my discomfort. "You've already welcomed him home."

That is the last time that I ever drink. What could the Professor have thought when he caught sight of me in my costume? Oh no, the costume. "Stop smirking." I demand as Logan's smirk grows wider. "The Professor must think that I've taken leave of my senses."

"Nah, he found it as funny as hell."

"You're not helping Logan."

"Ain't I?" He grins brushing a hand through my birds nest hair. Crap, talk about bed hair. Kissing me on the lips and tracing his hot breath down my neck, I inhale deeply and all thought of last night disappears. My breath hitches as he leaves a love bite on my neck. "Did that help?"

"Yes, Doctor Logan." I smile feeling ever so under the weather. "You can tell him that I'm sick."

"He knows you're hungover."

"I'm not hungover, I'm sick." I correct him lying back down and pulling the sheets to my chin. "Very, very sick."

"Whatever you say darlin'." Logan snorts throughly amused. "Eat your breakfast, you'll feel better."

Aw, Logan brought me breakfast in bed. I have bagged myself the perfect man, even if we have yet to make our relationship official. I can't eat it though, I feel so nauseous. But when I look at Logan's face I find my resolve breaking and I ask him to pass me the tray. He places it on my lap and I gaze down at the sausages, bacon, eggs, tomatoes, the stack of toast and the glass of fresh orange juice. How the hell am I going to eat all that?

"It looks, um yummy."

Logan arches an eyebrow and urges me to tuck in. Apparently I must be starving. Well, I have news for him. I'm not. I'm far from it actually.

I take a small bite from a slice of plain toast and chew slowly, praying that I don't spew all over Logan's bed. It tastes like I'm eating a piece of cardboard and my tongue feels ever so furry. I need to brush my teeth. Next I tackle the orange juice, I know that vitamin C helps those drunken idiots get over a hangover.

As I dig at the eggs with a fork wrinkling up my nose in disgust, Logan chortles. "What?"

"I didn't think you'd do it Marie."

"Do what?" I question dropping the fork and glaring at him. "You rat bastard!" I scream. "You did this on purpose didn't you?"

The arousing wink he throws at me almost makes me forgive him but then my stomach begins to gurgle. "Oh no." I mumble pushing the tray to him. "I'm going to be sick."

* * *

Sitting in the Professors study beside Logan and the rest of the X-men I 'm still feeling slightly sick and have a headache courtesy of the deepest, darkest abyss of hell. I watch the new Charles Xavier addressing the group my mind wandering to last night. My memories are quite sketchy. I remember drinking and Jubilee and Mel dropping me off at the gates. Who knows how I typed the code in? I have trouble remembering it when I am sober. I was dressed as a french maid and... Come on think Marie.

"And that is how I survived." The Professor finishes his explanation followed by a round of applause. Good God, my fucking head.

"Wow. That's so cool. Isn't it Chica?" Jubilee whispers to me.

"Oh yeah." I reply having heard none of the speech. "Very cool indeed."

The Professor launches into another talk thanking Ororo for her hard work during his absence and I think back to last night again. Where was I? The french maid costume and I had the hiccups. I held my breath then I fell over didn't I? I was near the door and... The Professor has needs. Holy shit. There's no doubt about it; I'm going to be sick again.

"Rogue? You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?" The professor asks me as Logan squeezes my thigh.

"I'm fine." I mutter avoiding all eye contact with everyone in the room, especially the Professor.

The Professor has needs.

"I see." He sighs watching me closely.

The Professor had needs.

I shake my head and attempt to think of anything else but the Professor and his frankly stomach turning needs. No, think of Logan. Think of the Logan dream where we were having sex. It was fast and hard. Very, very feral and hot, ever so hot.

"Rogue?"

"What!?" I demand glaring at the Professor again. "What could you possibly want now?"

The Professor has needs.

"I was only asking if you had anything else to add."

The Professor has needs.

Ah! "Yes, I have something to add Professor. You should not be thinking of sex at your age. You're old. Old people should not have sex at all, its wrong. Very wrong. So keep those needs of yours a secret please. We don't have to know about your so called sex life. Um, because its wrong and when I'm sixty four I'll be sat on a rocking chair knitting a scarf for my cat. Not thinking about sex or having it. oh no, no wrinkly, enfeebled, senior citizen sex for me."

My mouth snaps shuts and I sit there mortified at my outburst. Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed. Even Logan is looking at me as if I've grown another head.

"I see." The Professor replies serenely. "Anyone else?"

* * *

Why would I want to knit a scarf for my cat? If I had a cat. I'm not even a fan of cats, I prefer dogs but I wouldn't want to knit a scarf for a dog either. I would never even want to knit a scarf for a person. I don't even know how to knit. Maybe I really will be senile at the age of sixty four. I think I've already started losing my mind and I'm only twenty two. I could have destroyed a great many brain cells while drinking.

"You awake?"

"No." I reply shifting on the bed.

"So, you don't want Chuck to have sex?"

"Logan?"

"Yeah?" He grunts.

"Shut up."

I hit him with the pillow, he retaliates by hauling me into his lap and I snuggle into his embrace. "I'm leavin' tomorrow mornin'." Logan tells me cupping my face in his hand.

My smile runs for cover and I stare at him open mouthed not knowing how to react. We've only begun to explore our relationship. We have yet to... You know and he wants to leave me already.

"You're leaving me?" I whisper tears filling my eyes.

"What?" Logan responds gruffly. "No, darlin'. Chuck scanned my mind again. He found some new leads."

New leads for his past? The tears vanish in an instance and I know that I have to let Logan do this. It's important for him to find out the details of his past. I know he still suffers from the nightmares. Although they have calmed since I've started sleeping here with him.

"What you thinkin'?"

"That when you return from your trip you had better have brought me a present." I grin pecking him on the cheek.

"How about I give you your present now?" Logan smirks at me a hand caressing my bare stomach.

If he means what I think he means, I may just have died and gone to heaven. "How big is this present?" I ask and no, I'm not being cute.

"You've seen it before." He says flipping me onto the bed and pinning my hands above my head. "You said it was small."

"Oh." I mutter. "What I actually meant was that it was huge. You heard my penis speech didn't you?" I blush.

"Uh huh."

Before I have a chance to reply his lips crush against mine and my body tingles with hysteria and I feel so impassioned. I cannot believe that this is finally happening, after all the waiting, the trials and tribulations of my life. I'm going to make love to my wonderful, seductive, attractive, suave, big and I mean big, well endowed hunk of a man.


	18. I Call Your Name

**_A quick thanks to all those that reviewed: JimandSteve, jackmansgrrl, alexmonalisa, cherish15, neenaD91, dancingt21, ElizaV, starlight2twilight, soon2bme, wolverette, bologna121, generated anomoly and Peaches!_**

**_Oh and please forgive me for the short chapter (Whistles innocently) LOL_**

**_

* * *

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**I Call Your Name**

My purple silk negligee was the first to go, its now in tatters on the bedroom floor. The leopard print black bra from a well known lingerie store is strewn across the table lamp obscuring the light and partially dimming the room somewhat romantically. My matching panties were ripped off and thrown into the corner of the room as I squealed in delight.

Logan's leather belt, ripped jeans and wife beater have been hastily dumped in a pile at the foot of the bed. He's going commando again and is still wearing his socks, there's a hole... his left big toe is poking through.

The bed screeches and creaks in protest as Logan shifts his weight and his teeth clamp down on my right nipple. He repeatedly bites both my breasts driving me absolutely insane and I moan in satisfaction as his hot kisses travel further down until he hits the one million dollar jackpot.

"Logan..." My breath hitches and I have goosebumps when his tongue curls around the pirates loot. You see what I did there? I didn't want to be too crude while describing only the beginning of a wonderful night. "Stop teasing me." I hiss my hands brushing through his dark tresses and resting on his shoulders.

He gazes up at me like a cat that got the cream and licks his lips. Well I guess he has got the cream figuratively speaking. "We've got all night darlin' and I'm gonna make sure that I taste all of you." A feral smirk and he nips me in a place I'm sure that no mans teeth will ever nip again. Lips meet lips and he continues to tease relentlessly and I groan, moan and groan. I'm a broken record, an old nineteen seventies LP record with the price tag still attached and the packaging in perfect condition. I'm in my prime and will happily experience all that... "Logan!"

All that... Oh, who the fuck cares. "Alright big boy, I've had enough."

I crawl away from him and hop off of the bed, gracefully landing onto the carpet as Wolverine watches his prey hungrily on all fours. "Excuse me?"

"If you're not man enough to make me yours, than I'm sure there is someone else out there who will be more then willing to.... Ooff"

Logan leaps off of his bed and pins me against the wall his hands on my upper arms and a prominent Logan Junior standing to attention. It would surely make any army colonel very proud and at least it's not winking at me this time. I bite my bottom lip and raise my eye brows at his eagerness.

"Don't move." Logan orders with an added growl.

He walks over to his bedside table and wow, that is one fine piece of ass. Even finer when free of the faded denim. He slams shut the drawer and pads back over to me. We both stand naked, Logan still in his grey threadbare socks that have certainly seen better days and me with a smile.

"No one else is gonna touch you." He opens the green packet and slowly slips on the protection. Oh my ninth grade science teacher would be suitably impressed at Logan's responsible actions.

"And why is that Logan?" I ask almost jumping for joy at the sheer magnitude of that question.

Logan leans in closer and whispers in my ear. "You're mine."

I just knew that he was going to say that but how do I make him act on that; I'm Tarzan- You are Jane-Cave man- you are my woman-Ugg ugg-Adamantium fists to chest-You will do as I say-You woman-Me man-ugg ugg attitude he's always displaying.

Hmm, I wonder..."I'm tired of waiting Wolverine. You have five seconds bub or I'm out of here". And those are the magic words, the only words I had to utter these past few weeks. I needed to make him crazy with jealousy to finally...

He slams me into the wall and yikes that is going to leave a bruise but hello inner ecstasy. I claw his back with my nails and he lifts me off my feet working himself into a frenzied sweat. Logan grunts in approval as I wrap my legs around his waist and he thrusts harder into me causing me to rasp in pleasure. I close my eyes and allow the mind blowing orgasm to overtake my shuddering body. Bobby was never this good, hell he wasn't even half this good. He could never make me come so fast. I... I think I'm going to..."LOGAN!" I scream my eyes rolling into the back of my head.

"Marie!"

Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah.

I mean wow.

No. I... I... Just wow, wow, wow.

Three fucking cheers for Marie.

Logan places me gently to my feet and kisses me possessively on my swollen lips. "Mine." He tells me gruffly.

I slide down the wall my legs having turned to jelly and I rest on my knees attempting to catch my breath. I have never felt anything like that in all my life. But it didn't even last three minutes. I look up at Logan about to mention that fact when I notice something so horrifying that all thoughts of Logan sex are pushed out of my mind. "I broke a nail!" I whine glancing at my hand and I was doing so well, I hadn't broken a nail in three months and then wham. Hard sex and my fucking nail protests to the point of actual suicide.

"Time for round two then." Logan smirks with an arched eyebrow.

* * *

I lay in Logan's strong arms as the sounds of the awakening birds stir me from my peaceful stupor. I have not had such an amazing, yet tiring night in... Um, ever. We made love against the wall again, on the desk, on the bedroom rug, in his bed numerous times and have even christened the shower. I feel so safe lying beside him and knowing that no one can harm a hair on my head as long as he's around. I guess that too much sex makes me ramble on with corny phrases and sentences.

I smile to myself knowing that I will most probably have trouble walking today but I know that its been well worth the aches and pains. I can even understand why the Professor has needs at his age, I have Logan now and as long as he's by my side I will forever have an unquenchable thirst and those pesky needs will always be floating around in my brain.

"You're still awake."

I peck him on the cheek and turn to face him. "So are you." I say, grinning naughtily. "What time are you leaving?"

"In a few hours." He replies as I straddle him. I think it's about time I wear the pants in this relationship, am I right girls? "Why?"

"No reason." I whisper saucily in his ear. "I just thought I'd return the favour and I haven't given you your going away present yet."

"My present, huh?"

"Yep."

And once again we make love, hard fast and ever so hot, everything that I could have ever dreamed of and speaking of dreams, this night has totally eclipsed that dream I had. Logan is every bit the man I thought he was and then some. I just hope he doesn't stay away too long because I will begin searching for The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator again and this time when I do find it, I won't hesitate to use it. Especially if my man stays away from home for months at a time. I guess only time will tell but I can only hope that he hurries back soon, before the cobwebs well and truly settle in.


	19. Don't Let Me Down

**_A special thank you to my reviewers... bologna121, beepersheartsbrucas, Starlight2twilight, dancingt21, Brit-Babe191, alexmonalisa, ElizaV, Soon2Bme and NeenaD91 :)_**

**_Okay, I admit that this chapter is a tad short but I promise a longer chapter next time, so stay tuned! Lol _**

**Don't Let Me Down**

I have not been laid in two months, thirteen days, ten hours, eight minutes and one point two seconds. The obsessive compulsive need to be precise, that is a major flaw in my personality and it is driving Jubilee absolutely insane. I miss Logan and I'm crossing my fingers and toes, praying that he has stayed out of trouble. That and he has kept his hard, hot, hairy hands to himself and not met any busty blond barmaids or red haired, long legged prostitutes. Logan must be a magician, not only did he make me scream his name until my throat was hoarse, but I can't find my diamond encrusted vibrator either. It has vanished and it is has disappeared off of the face of this earth. I will find my dildo, no need to worry yourself over my one thousand dollar investment, it will be put to good use.

Guess what? I have also found myself a job, not in a bar this time and not at the mansion. Files, paperwork and Marie do not mix. There where? You ask, well, you will just have to wait and see.

How long can it possibly take him to search for his past, anyway? He isn't one to stand in awe of his findings or the scenery that surrounds him, and he hates taking planned vacations. Yet, Logan can drag his feet and fritter away his time in Canada for months without a phone call, letter or even a postcard. How would he like to be on the receiving end of a hell of a lot of worry, day in and day out?

That's simple, he wouldn't and that is what makes him a totally selfish, inconsiderate asshole, who has probably been fighting and fucking his way across Canada and beyond.

I am going to kill him, string him up by his balls and watch him dangle helplessly over a fifty foot crevice, begging for his life. Ha, who am I kidding? Logan would never beg for his life, he's too stubborn and that will be the death of him once I get my hands on his family jewels. I will twist, tweak and tug my way into his memory and he will remember to keep in touch next time, hopefully there won't be a next time.

Ugh, I can't sleep, Logan is on my mind and his shower cubicle, a large sponge and his hands on my soapy body. Oh yeah, massaging, caressing and..."Fuck, I need a glass of water and an aspirin, my head is killing me." Great, and now I am talking to myself. If I start to sing along to a disco song, in front of an enormous audience, on a glittery disco ball filled stage, please do not hesitate in calling the head doctors. Who knew that being in love could fuck with your body clock, thoughts, dreams, personality...Jesus Christ, everything.

This is all Logan's fault, he is one frisky, feral, fool but he has a heart of gold and I'm in love. All this thinking is giving me a major headache.

*******

I walk into the kitchen without switching on the light, it is to much effort and I'm so tired. Its hard to sleep peacefully in such a large, empty bed alone. Especially now that Logan's scent has faded from all the sheets and I'm left with a cold, barren space beside me. I open the cupboard door, remove a tall glass and walk to the sink. I wonder what Logan is doing, at this precise moment in time?

A sound behind me snaps me out of my musings and the glass almost slips out of my fingers. Its the sound of a whiskey bottle being dragged, non to gently across the kitchen table. I bet you want to know how I knew that, don't you? Well, I turned around and am now gazing at my beautiful, gorgeous man, sitting at the table in the darkness. In the darkness, with a frown, that can't be good, can it?

I step forward and almost squeal and throw myself into his arms, but stop when he glares at me and his scowl deepens. "Um, Logan?" I whisper fidgeting with the hem of his baggy t-shirt, the one I have been sleeping in these past few nights. "How long have you been sitting in here?" What a stupid question to ask, what I really want to know is why he hasn't come to see me yet?

"A while." He grunts, the whiskey bottle edging closer to his lips, the same lips that months ago were..No, don't think about that.

"So." I announce cheerfully, possibly a little to cheerfully for this time of night. "Did you find anything out about your past?"

I have done it again, I have asked the wrong question, a stupidly dumb question. He swigs a mouthful of grog down like mothers milk and refuses to even look at, let alone answer me. I'm beginning to wonder if his past really is that dreadful, is that what is bothering him? Doesn't he know that I love him with all my heart, his past would never change my feelings towards him. He can be such a blockhead sometimes.

Logan drains more of his whiskey and I am stumped. "Um, okay then." Time to reconsider this whole situation, I need to extract the information out of him, one way or another. I walk over to him, hips swinging from side to side and perch myself on my grimacing Logan's thigh, aw my Logan. Shit, I probably shouldn't be smiling. I take his free hand in mine and raise a brow. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, squeezing his hand and rubbing his knuckles with my fingers and thumb.

He roughly yanks his hand away and I almost topple onto the floor as he still refuses to look at me. I stay quiet for a few moments, no knowing what the heck to say for the best. I stand up and nervously pace the kitchen, crap, this is utter crap. I don't understand what has changed so rapidly in his life to make him act like this?

I glance at my tall empty glass on the counter and turn off the running water, all the while contemplating my next move. "This ain't workin' Marie." Logan sighs, staring at the grouting between the tiles on the kitchen wall.

"You're going to have to be more specific?" I reply, putting on a brave face. Add a dash of heart break, a splash of sadness and a sprinkle of anger and you will fully appreciate the way I am feeling.

"What we got goin' on."

"And what have we got going on Logan?" I demand crossing my arms and pacing furiously. "We're in a relationship together, you stay away for months without a bloody word and now you're saying that..." Oh, those damn tears are falling and he probably thinks that I am acting like an emotionally damaged woman, well fuck him, no not like that. "You're saying that you want to end it, aren't you?"

I receive a curt nod and before I know it my hand is reaching for the glass, without even thinking my actions through I hurl the glass at Logan's over-sized head. I march out of the kitchen my head held high and my mascara stained eyes blurring my vision, that damn water proof mascara...it will never come off when I'm scrubbing in the shower but a few tears and....Bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard, bastard. The fucking bastard, how could he treat me like that? Like I was nothing other then a fleeting fancy. Did he only want to get in my panties and now that he has conquered and mounted sweet Marie, he has no other use for me? Has he found another skank to fuck already? Oh, I bet he has, a hooker with red hair, who can go for hours, without losing her voice and I bet her name is Jean.

I don't need Logan, who the fuck needs Logan? Not me, nope. I can live my life completely Logan free, just you wait and see, there is no heart ache here...please, just ignore the tears and snot. I have something in my eye and my nose too, and it will take more than one fucking man to destroy me. Hopefully, if I keep telling myself that I will start to believe it. I should have stayed in fucking bed, dammit.


	20. I Feel Fine

**_Lucky for you guys I had already started to write this chapter yesterday and only had to finish this off today, as I promised its longer! ;) _**

**_Thanks to Brit-Babe191, ElizaV, iLovePun, jackmansgrrl, alexmonalisa, bologna121, starligh2twilight, FANfromNYC, Kris89 and Wolverette. _**

**I Feel Fine**

Did you know that all men suck? From the ends of their dark pointed hair, to the tips of their cute toes they suck, suck, suck and no man has ever sucked to such an extreme extent then Logan. Sucks, that is a word I would use to describe him, especially when he latched his teeth onto my breasts. I'm a mess, he treats me like utter shit and here I am still daydreaming over our night of passion.

Its been two days, two excruciating days have passed and I have cried, bawled and wailed through forty eight tedious, time consuming hours. I left Logan's room that very night and I'm currently hiding in Jubilee's, Kitty has moved in with Bobby and Jubes was in a desperate state. She needed a room mate to gossip with, unfortunately for her I am in no mood to gossip about clothes, guys and sex but she's stuck with me for the time being.

I have had it up to here (I know you can't see me but I'm pointing to my head) always ending up as the victim, in relationships I'm the one that has my heart broken, smashed, crushed, severed, mangled, shattered, I'm sure that you get the idea. I have a heavy heart but I won't let it rule my life, it has happened before with Bobby and my life is only repeating itself and I'm strong, I won't allow this to beat me.

If Logan doesn't want me and he has made his feelings crystal clear, I will find another guy, someone who will treat me with the respect I deserve. No, I'm not on the rebound, fine I am but if you are thrown off a horse, you need to dust yourself off and get right back into the saddle. Its true what they say, you really do turn into your parents, my mom used to tell me that all the time. That was when I was still at high school though, I was upset over trivial teenage matters, this is life or death.

Staying in bed for eighteen hours straight, I have made an important decision. It is time for a date, a double date, Jubilee and Mel, alongside myself and...Coma David. I know what you're thinking, I'm trying to make Logan jealous and I really shouldn't be using David like that. I don't want to hurt him, he was my first love and I won't string him along, I just need to get out of this mansion and paint the town red, white, pink and blue. I rang him earlier and he's more than up for it, he actually sounded excited and that makes me feel slightly remorseful. I will show him a great time though, we are meeting at a newly established bar in town and Jubilee is coming along for the ride, whether she likes it or not.

I have four hours to primp, preen and prepare myself and I'm nervous, its the first date I have had with Coma David in five years, stupid butterflies settling in my stomach. I'm determined to look amazing and Logan won't know what has hit him, no not Logan, David...I meant David. I'm dating David, not Logan, David, David, Coma David.

*******

"Roguey, you're gorgeous!" Jubilee squeals dressed in a sparkling, canary yellow short dress with matching yellow diamante heels and a yellow feathered hair band.

I smile at my best friend and twirl around on the spot. "You don't think its too much do you?" I ask, feeling rather self conscious.

"No girl, that corset makes you look a million bucks and where did you get the leather skirt from?"

"That new store on the high street." I reply gazing at my reflection in the mirror. I know for a fact that Logan is driven wild by leather, not that I care.

"And where have you been hiding those legs?" She demands looking me up and down. "You would put Kate Moss to shame, you're not snorting coke as well are you and where's your Pete Doherty?"

"Ha, ha, ha". I exclaim grabbing my clutch bag from the bed. "I know I have a poor taste in men but give me some credit."

"Wolvie is an ass, forget about him because tonight my dear, we are young, pretty and loaded."

Jubilee might be loaded without ever having spent a full day working and I have luckily just been paid. "Jubes you've been watching those English shows again, haven't you?" I sigh shaking my head and giggling.

"There's a hot, English guy in every one of them Roguey, so of course I have." Jubilee dismisses me with a wave of her hand and she skips to the door. I'm only surprised that she doesn't break her neck, imagine skipping across a carpet in your sky high heels. "Hurry up, Mel's picking us up in ten."

I tell her I will be down in a minute and take a deep breath, it won't hurt to take a leisurely stroll past the kitchen. I check my make up one last time and walk to the door, I will make damn sure that Logan will be kicking himself before this night is through, he is going to regret hurting me.

*******

"Miss. Marie!" My name being screamed at an earsplitting level stops me in my tracks and I double back.

"Hi Joey." I grin as he runs up and engulfs me in a huge hug.

"I made you a get well soon card." He announces excitedly handing me a home made card, with a picture of me and a man with claws drawn on the front.

"Thank you." I reply releasing him from my arms. "Its just what I have always wanted."

His face lights up and his green eyes shine. "Jubilee said that you were sick and that you needed a rabies shot." Joey says, without stopping for a breath. "She said you got too close to a dog."

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to laugh uncontrollably as I spot Logan walking towards us. "That's the problem with dogs Joey, sometimes they bite."

"Did it get put down?" He asks in awe.

"Not yet, no. But if it steps out of line again, it will do."

Logan stares at me and his jaw twitches, his eyes settling on my bare legs. "I'll see you later and thanks for the card." I ruffle Joey's hair and walk past Logan.

"Marie?"

"Go away Logan."

He places a hand on my wrist and pulls me to a stop. "Look, just listen..."

"I listened the other night and now, I have plans. So, remove the hand." I order, he stays quiet and I shake the hand away.

"Dressed like that?" He growls raising his brow and glaring at my attire.

"Oh no you don't, you have no right!" I will not stand here and listen to the man that broke my heart, criticise my clothes when I am running late for a date. "I'm going to be late for my date, don't wait up."

I stroll to the front door and refuse to look back, knowing that Logan is watching me walk away and growling, he will probably storm into the kitchen and self medicate on beer once the car pulls out of the drive. I refuse to feel sorry for him, I can't get involved in a relationship that leaves me feeling emotionally empty, I need more then just sex.

*******

"About time Chica, what were you and Wolvie talking about?" Jubilee asks me while I strap myself into the back seat and say hi to Mel.

"Not a lot, he wanted to talk and I told him I had a date." I sigh watching the trees fly past as Mel puts his foot down and we zoom out of the mansion gates.

"He sounds like a real nasty piece of work." Mel says glancing at me in the rear view mirror.

"I didn't ask for your opinion Melvin."

"He was only saying Rogue!" Jubilee scolds turning around in her seat.

"Yeah well, I wish he wouldn't." I whisper tearfully.

"All I was saying..."

"Shut up Mel!" Jubes commands smiling at me. "No need to worry, you won't even remember his name after tonight."

"Thanks." I don't know what I would have done without Jubilee, she's my best friend, the best friend a girl could ever wish for.

*******

"Its a Karaoke bar Jubes!" I shriek almost hyperventilating. "Why would he want to meet us at a Karaoke bar?"

"Maybe he likes to sing?" Mel adds with glee. "Oh, I do like a good old sing song."

What on earth have I gotten myself into, when did David enjoy singing drunkenly in front of a hostile crowd? He sure has changed since I saw him last. "You made it guys." Coma David greets us with a sickly sweet smile plastered across his cookie cutter looks, he reminds me of Bobby.

"Long time, no see Coma David." Jubilee slaps him on his back and introduces her boyfriend, plumber Mel. "Come on Chica, the Liquor awaits!"

"Yeah, give me a minute." I tell her watching them enter the bar, as David hangs back watching me intently.

"Your parents still worry about you, you know." He informs me shuffling his feet, taking my hand in his and kissing it lightly.

"I know."

"Are you ever going to come home?"

"I am home David." At least I thought I was, I can't help thinking that maybe it is time to move on, there is nothing holding me back now.

"At least I'm not in a coma this time, huh?" He jokes letting my hand fall to my side.

"Congratulations, you effectively killed the romantic mood." I reply heading into the bar and leaving him on the sidewalk, scratching his head and wondering what he has said wrong.

*******

"Four more shots each Roguey!" Jubilee shouts over the Scottish man on stage, microphone in hand, butchering Whitney Houston's version of 'I Will Always Love You'.

"Okay, one, two, three." We both down the four brightly coloured shots in quick secession and I gag and shudder at the taste. "Yuck, that stuff is foul."

"Its good for the soul though."

"And my liver?" I ask arching an eyebrow.

"Put it this way, you wanted to forget and you will forget. Jubilation Lee is never wrong."

The man on stage has finished at last and bows as the crowd applauds, I boo and hiss, fancy singing such a mushy, slushy love song. There is no such thing as love. "You suck!" I screech, shaking my fist at him.

"How much have you had?" David laughs. "How much has she had?"

"Not enough." I answer ordering another round of shots. "The night is young, Coma David."

"Do you have to keep calling me that?"

"Yes." Me and Jubilee reply at exactly the same time. "It suits you." I add mischievously, if it wasn't for this alcohol I would be in a coma, a snooze induced coma.

*******

"The next drinks on the menu are cocktails." Mel digs in his pocket and produces a few ten dollar bills. "These drinks are on me guys."

We all thank Mel and Jubilee tugs at me skirt to gain my attention. "Jubes, you're going to pull my skirt down if you're not careful."

"Maybe later but look over there." She pleads pointing to a dark, shadowy corner of the Karaoke bar.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"A guy!"

"You've already got a guy." I groan, rolling my eyes. "We both have and...is that who I think it is?"

"Wolvie followed you down here girl, he still cares." Jubilee hops from foot to foot and cheers.

Logan followed me down here, he doesn't care, he's only showing his possessive jealous streak. Its that whole, I don't want you but nobody else can have you either. Well, I will show him, you never mess with Marie D'Ancanto and get away with it......Grr, men suck, absolutely, positively suck.

"Wait, he's that way, where are you going?"

"You'll see."

I stomp through the crowd, high heels clicking on the shimmering tiled floor and bubbling over with rage. We are not in a relationship and he does this? I waited for him at that mansion, without ever looking at another man and now...I can't even think rationally, maybe that is the booze. I mean, look at what I'm fucking doing, I have a hole in my bag of marbles.

"Get out of my way!" I snarl at the Scottish, bearded man with the musical notes jumper and pale blue tap shoes.

"I was here first!"

"I don't care, this is an emergency." I climb the steps to the stage and leaf through the song book, carefully choosing a song tailored to my situation. The DJ hands me the microphone and the almost blinding spotlight falls on me. Oh shit, maybe this wasn't such a great idea but one look at the scowling, glaring Logan drinking from a glass of whiskey, a cigar in hand causes my confidence to grow...obviously that's the booze again. I probably shouldn't have had all those damn shots.

The music starts and the blurry words appear on the screen to my side, luckily I know this song off by heart, it was one of my moms favourites. "_First I was afraid, I was petrified, Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side." _I sway from side to side, Jubilee whoops and throws her hands in the air and my eyes meet Logan's. "_But I spent so many nights, thinking how you did me wrong, I grew strong, I learned how to carry on." _He puffs on his cigar, his glare boring into me. "_and so you're back, from outer space, I just walked in to find you here, with that sad look upon your face." _I step closer to the edge of the stage and glare, defiantly back. "_I should have changed my stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key, If I had known for just one second, you'd be back to bother me." _I wince at that part of the song, I wanted Logan to return, I wanted to pick up where we had left off.

I inhale as the chorus approaches and I point at the smoking bastard. "_Go on now go walk out the door, just turn around now, cause' you're not welcome anymore, weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye." _I start to pick up the rhyme I have been lacking. "_You think I'd crumble, you think I'd lay down and die, Oh no, not I. I will survive, as long as I know how to love, I know I will stay alive, I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give." _I begin to perform a little jig as Jubilee waves her arms and calls my name, what is she mouthing to me? Wait, where has Logan gone? "_and I'll survive, I will...EEP!" _I fall head first off of the stage, landing in Coma Davids arms. "Thank you David." I groan, slightly out of breath and speaking into the microphone. "Thank you, thank you very much." I say to the cheering audience. "And now watch Marie leave the building."

Staggering to my very drunken feet and passing the microphone to Jubilee, I leave the bar in search of Logan. I hear Jubilee, talking to the crowd and singing her little, yellow heart out. Oh my, she chose 'These boots are made for walking'. I woozily laugh to myself and venture into the cold, rainy night. Men, you can't live with them and you can't live without them.

"You lookin' for me?" A gruff voice asks behind me. Logan is leaning against his motorcycle, the late Scott's motorcycle and God damn, he looks sexy.

"No." I reply swaying yet again, from side to side. "Not you, no. You're not that important." I tell him with a scowl.

"Just important enough to sing about, huh?"

"I wasn't singing about you, I know plenty more men!" I yell placing my hands on my hips. "Millions more and here's one now."

"Marie, are you....Oh, you have company." David stands beside me and glances at Logan.

"Take a hike bub, we're talkin'." Logan growls, stepping away from his bike and cracking his neck.

"David stay, Wolverine here is just leaving, like he always does when a situation gets to tough for him." I sneer wrapping an arm around David's waist.

"I don't want to intrude." David gulps pushing me gently away from him, as I tug him back.

"You're not."

"Yeah, you are."

"Um, what kind of name is Wolverine?" David interrupts looking perplexed.

"A stupid one." I answer before Logan even gets a chance to threaten him for asking. "We're leaving." I tell Coma David and drag him along, the uneven sidewalk. It sure looks uneven and again its 'Strike of the liquor shots'.

"Marie, we ain't finished." Oh, that is rich coming from him. I turn around and stand my ground.

"Yes we are." I smirk at Logan and kiss David on the lips. "Mine." I whisper into his ear, nipping his earlobe.

Logan moves so fast that I almost miss him grabbing hold of David by his shirt and throwing him into the wall. They both begin to shout at each other, grappling and kicking out like harassed and agitated mules. A mass of intoxicated people begin to circle the fighting duo, some individuals even start to place bets on the winner.

"This is fucked up." I say to myself stumbling to a near by cab and ignoring the cursing, growls and threats.

"Where would you like to go?" The cab driver asks, the sound of police sirens closing in around us.

I slam the door closed and collapse on the seat. "Anywhere cheap with a bed, I'm tired and my throat hurts. Have you ever tried to sing I will survive, its hard, so very hard mister cab driver."

_

* * *

_

**Lyrics from, well I'm sure you all know but for those who don't...Gloria Gaynor's I will survive. And I just had to get Rogue drinking again, I find her miss adventures hilarious when she's pissed Lol. Though, her poor liver :( and had to get Jubes back into the story, I love her. **

**So, please let me know what you think as usual :) **


	21. You've Got To Hide Your Love Away

**_Thanks to the following fantastic people that reviewed and made my day...Jackmansgrrl, Brit-Babe191, bologna121, alexmonalisa, ElizaV, SPEEDIE22, JimandSteve, dulcesweet, NeenaD91, dancinqt21, Soon2Bme, SapphireMind and LillyE Jackman :) _**

**_I actually have an ulterior motive for posting this quickly written chapter, I've created a new community called 'I Heart Rogan' and being bored I decided to set up a Rogan writing challenge, if anyone is interested please check out my profile for the details. Also if anyone wants to join as staff, you're more than welcome, just send me a message. _**

**You've Got To Hide Your Love Away**

Drunken logic is a terrible concept, please put your feet up, take it easy and let me explain my findings to you. Firstly you drink, drink like there is no tomorrow, you think to yourself 'Well, I've only had a few, another one won't hurt, I can still walk can't I?'. Then after you've had a skin-full the stage with the pretty substantial disco balls, seemingly talented DJ and extremely worse for wear crowd, appear before you in a haze and you say...'Sure, what the hell, me and my amazing singing voice were destined for the stage'. Especially when you gaze around the bar and your eyes meet Logan's, think of it this way, you are staring at the man that hurt you emotionally and something inside of you snaps. The spotlight is calling your name and before you know it, there you are microphone in hand, attempting to dance like Ginger Rogers and belt out a tune as if you are Christina Aguilera on a good day.

Of course you chose that song, the one that reveals your heart felt feelings to the world and the one man that never discusses 'The mushy stuff'. Falling of the stage is not how I envisioned my performing debut, either. Oh hell, I will just have to cringe, blush and just about die inwardly every time I hear that song from this day forward. I was never the girl that craved for all the attention and look at me now, the karaoke queen of Westchester, New York, who has for an unknown reason checked into a rundown motel and is avoiding all contact with the outside world.

I, to some degree understand why I am here, I didn't want to deal with the hassle of my turbulent love life. Logan, David, Logan, David, Logan, David. Shit, my mind is a tangled mess of romantic notions, passions and every crisis known to man. I opened my heart to him and I began to bleed, I was able to swim comfortably in the pool of blood I had lost and I didn't freak out. Okay, I sang an intoxicated version of 'I Will Survive', possibly caused Logan and David to spend the night in jail and am now in hiding but I don't consider that a freak out at all. Its called an unplanned and very much needed vacation, this is a home away from home, kind of.

Looking around the room, I ignore the familiar urge to roll my eyes, do you remember the list of places I wanted Logan to ravish me in? Well, I am currently lying quite cozily in a water bed, can you guess what shape the bed has been carved into? Sure you can, a heart, one gigantic, red heart. There's a button directly behind me, push that and the room darkens, the fairy lights surrounding the bed, the walls and the ceiling switch on and the bed starts to turn slowly in rather nauseating circles. Trust me, do not try this at home while you are hungover, I almost lost the entire contents of my stomach in one go earlier.

An unwanted knock at the door shakes me out of my musings and I attempt to get out of the bed. Which seems to be easier said then done, if the current circumstances are to be believed. Who the heck would buy one of these damn contraptions to sleep in? Every time I try to stand up my knees sink into the mattress, what is this? Fucking quicksand or something?

Five mind numbing minutes of fighting with the mattress, as my calm and composed guest waits outside I finally free myself from the bed. I stagger tiredly to the door and open it with one hand, crap, I didn't even lock it last night, that crazy drunken logic.

"Rogue?" Storm's placid voice reaches my ears. "Can I come in? I have some clothes and toiletries."

I wave her in and quietly shut the door, no wanting to aggravate my pounding head. "How did you know I was here?" I whisper, gently melting back into the mattress.

"The Professor used cerebro late last night, we were worried." She replies, glancing around the room and placing the bag on the floor.

I should have known, I blame my drunkenness again, I forgot that the Professor was still alive, legs and all. "Mmm." I groan, shielding my eyes from the sunlight.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Well, as of ten minutes ago Wolverine was still in jail, along with a young man named David. Jubilee had no idea where you were, in fact by the time she returned to the mansion two hours ago, she didn't even know her own name." Storm sighs, sitting on the only chair and crossing her legs. "She was drunk, her and Mel made a night of it, apparently."

Whoop de doo for Jubilee and Melvin, at least someone had a reasonably fun filled night. "Mel did mention the dreaded K word though."

"The K word?" I ask her, turning my head in her direction and squinting.

"Karaoke." Ororo smiles.

"Ugh, I'm never going to live that down am I?" I groan, my face sinking into the water bed.

"Its really not that bad." She says with a grin.

"Storm?"

"Yes?"

"Can you say that again without the smile?" I plead, squeezing my eyes shut. "And is Logan still in jail?"

Ororo wipes the amusement from her beautiful face and watches me for a moment. "The Professor called to say that Logan's bail had just been posted, he should be back on the streets within minutes."

"Then its time for me to go to work."

"Why don't you wait and talk to Logan first?"

I scrunch up my nose at the very thought of waiting here until Logan tracks me down. "I think I'll pass." I respond a touch of bitterness creeping into my voice. "I can't afford to be late anyway."

"But can you afford to push Logan away?" She asks me, standing up and walking to the door.

I ignore her question and continue trying to get up. "You don't look to well Rogue, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm hungover Storm, that's all."

She nods her head and brushes a strand of hair from her face. "Call me Ororo, we are friends."

"Then call me Marie, that is my name."

We exchange warm smiles and she nods her head. "Ring me if you need anything Marie." And with that she leaves, the smell of her perfume tickling my nose long after she has gone.

*********

I'm bored but thankfully the hangover has now lifted, its midday and I decided not to check out of my room. I only locked the door and left, I even double checked to see if I had actually locked the door this time. Elbows on the counter, I lean sluggishly, my chin hitting the wood directly beside the cash register, observing the potential customers walk by the store. Somebody please come in and buy something, can't you see I am dying here?

The sound of the door opening and the jangle of the bell excite me to the brink of exhaustion, I would be than happy to jump on the brand new customer and hug them to death...or maybe not. One look at my new customer and I begin to wish that the roof would crumble and fall, burying me here. At least then I wouldn't have to talk to him.

"What are you doing here?" I demand, with a scowl and my headache returning with a vengeance.

"Is that anyway to treat a customer my dear?"

"When the customer is you, yes."

Eric Lensherr browses the nearest aisle and gazes at me with a look of disdain. "We are one of a kind now Rogue." He announces as if he's running for the presidency. "We both took the cure, whether we wanted to or not." He glances down at his hands and sighs. "Wolverine saw to that."

"He can be an ass can't he?" I smile, much to my own disgust. This man almost killed me, he did kill me and I'm standing here talking to him.

"Very much so." Magneto chuckles. "I'm looking to spend quite a large amount of money in your fine establishment today."

"Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"I need a multitude of new items, I have heard that Charles is miraculously alive, is there any truth in that or is it only a rumour?"

My jaw hits the ground and I fight to regain my composure, Magneto and the Professor, Eric and Charles, oh my goodness. "He's...um, very much alive, legs working and all." I gasp and stutter. Do any of you have an inkling yet, where do I work?

"That's good, very good." He smiles picking up a whip and brushing a finger through the leather tassels. "I look forward to seeing him again, its been far too long."

I nod my head mutely and consider the very thought that the man formerly known as Magneto, also has needs. "I, uh see and will you be purchasing that whip today?"

"I believe so yes, it looks rather sturdy and well made."

My eyes widen and I block out the pictures that attempt to pollute my mind, they are both too old for that type of behaviour. Eric meanwhile, places the whip on the counter and beckons me over. "Have you ever tried this?" He asks me, holding a large tub of lubricant up for me to see. "Is says on the label that it glows in the dark, I can't wait to see Charles's face."

*********

An hour, I had to spend an hour in my enemies company, guiding him around the store as he pointed to a great many sex toys, lubricants, dyes and whips. My manager said that she wouldn't be long, a quick lunch? A quick lunch my pale ass, I know that this part of the city is famed for its shopping, I am friends with Jubilee you know but she is taking the absolute piss, who's going to walk through the door next? Adolf Hitler searching for a purple penis ring or maybe John Wayne's spirit will wander through the wall asking for a pair of leather chaps with a certain scrap of material missing from the buttocks?

Once again the bell jingles and my jaw meets the ground, I am having one of those days again. "Rogue?!" My new customer splutters as surprised to see me as I am him. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here genius." I grumble. "Don't tell me, you want to buy a whip?"

"No, I was looking for a, um never mind."

"Spit it out Johnny, we're closing early today."

Pyro shuffles his feet nervously and glances around the store, a faint blush evident on his cheeks. "Iwanttobuyablowupdoll."

"Do you want to repeat that a little slower this time." I say, having heard every word the first time around. This is just for shits and giggles, I have a very humdrum life, you see.

"A blow up doll Rogue, just find me one and I'll leave."

"You pay for it and you can have it." I reply, slightly worried at his behaviour. "Haven't you found yourself a girlfriend then?"

"She has to be a brunette." He informs me glaring at the opposite wall. "I like brunettes."

I file that piece of information away for a later date and dig through the piles and piles of blow up dolls. "So, how have you been?"

"Okay, you?"

"I can't complain." I lie, producing the correct item and handing it to him.

"Can I take her out of her packaging?" John asks me, his face turning suddenly pale as he reads the writing printed on the side. "Her name's Marie."

I blink at him and shrug. "Do you want me to find you another one? I can always look out back."

"No, I uh...I like her and she has all the correct holes, the name suits her."

"Do you think you can wait until you're outside and then blow it...um, her up?" I suggest, my eyes widening as he hugs the doll close.

Fucking hell.

*********

The bell jingles and I don't dare look up, my head is in my hands deliberately blocking me from view. "If you're here to rob me blind go ahead, I don't care anymore." After the day I have had, can you blame me?

Someone clears their throat, a man to be exact and I gaze up whilst saying..."Are you sure you don't want the money? It would be so much...why are you here? No don't tell me, you found yourself a partner in jail last night and you're now looking for the perfect gift?"

"I ain't in the mood for the bullshit Marie." Logan growls, his hands deep in his jacket pockets.

"Join the club."

He quirks an eyebrow and instead of arguing saunters around the store, paying particularly close attention to the sexy costumes and the leather ankle restraints. "You work here?"

"Yes." I respond, fighting the desire to jump him and make love on this very floor. Marie is going to play hard to get though because she is feeling hurt.

"You get a discount?" He asks me gruffly his eyes darkening.

Refusing to acknowledge him, I turn the tables and ask him a question. "How did you know I worked here?" And the answer had better not be, the Professor told me.

"That friend of yours has a mouth the size of the Grand Canyon." Jubilee, he has to be speaking about Jubilee, no-one else I know fits that description and I didn't exactly make it public knowledge that I just so happened to work in a sex shop.

"You can leave now." I tell him, another customer walking into the store. Thankfully I don't appear to know this one.

"I ain't goin' nowhere." Logan replies sternly, a look of determination in his eyes.

"Fine." I complain with a frown. "Just don't break anything."

I smile at my waiting customer, pondering how on earth I am going to talk sex with this be-speckled man as Logan stands close by, breathing down our necks. Can anyone say 'Drunken logic leads to a lifetime of chronic, emotional embarrassment and pain.'


	22. Baby You're A Rich Man

**_OMG, I had to post a new chapter once I had seen that the last one gained 19 reviews! Holy crap, I can't believe it, I'm surprised that anyone is still reading, and I'm even getting new readers, so thank you...to the following: SPEEDIE22, SapphireMind, starlight2twilight, Soon2Bme, sofimac16, Brit-Babe191, HRInuyashaFan16, Kris89, NeenaD91, ElizaV, JimandSteve, LillyEJackman, jackmansgrrl, alexmonalisa, kinetically charmed, wildcat01, dancinqt21, Brittany and Glykera. _**

**_Glykera asked me where I get this stuff from, the bits about Adolf Hitler and John Wayne ect. Well, I sit here, stare at the computer screen and let my ridiculous sense of humour take over! Lol _**

**Baby You're A Rich Man**

Have you ever tried to work, carry out the day to day tasks that you are required to accomplish, with a six foot two inches bulk of testosterone, metal and simmering fury watching your every move. No, of course you haven't, what was I thinking? Let me tell you this, it is near impossible to ignore a devilishly handsome stalker. Especially, when he chooses to communicate his dislike of the situation, by growling every other minute.

I just called Logan handsome, dammit. What I meant to say was, ugly, he has been beaten with the ugly stick. Beaten to a bloody pulp by everyone woman he has ever crossed, hurt or betrayed.

"How can I help you Sir?" I ask my patiently waiting customer.

He waddles over to me, prodding the black rimmed eye glasses on his nose, to stop them from falling any further. "I'm looking for a present." He whispers.

"Why are you whispering?"

"I don't want the birthday girl to find out."

Oh great, just what I wanted, another crazy person. "Is she with you?" I quiz, gazing around the empty store.

"No, she's at home." The man discloses, in a hushed tone.

"Right." I murmur, glancing at Logan's solemn expression. "And what can you tell me about the birthday girl?"

"Well, I've never met her and she's a man."

Okay, where are the hidden cameras? I'm a victim, right? On one of those poorly made television shows, Candid Camera anyone? Even Logan looks mildly amused, as I do a slap happy, award winning job of impersonating a gold fish. Angelina Jolie look out, I'm going to fight for your glitzy, Hollywood crown, and the thought of having Brad Pitt in my bed only urges me to hunt down her skinny ass pronto.

"A man?" I reply, leaning against the counter, my knees threatening to buckle. This has been one stressful day, it has been one strange, fucked up situation after another.

"Yeah, until she has the surgery anyway." He announces, chuckling darkly and petting his crotch. "It must smart real good, having it chopped off."

"I um, wouldn't know."

"That's too bad girlie."

I'm unsure why that is too bad, but the comment causes Logan's face to darken. "I hope you don't mind me asking you this, but why are you buying a present for a woman you've never actually met?"

"Oh, that's a funny story." He chuckles once more, picking up a boxed penis pump. "She's my next door neighbour Tom's, best friends, sisters, college buddies, cousins, brothers acquaintance."

I stand there slack jawed, attempting to wrap my brain around his explanation. "Let me get this straight, your next door neighbour..."

"His name is Tom." The man interrupts.

"Okay, so Tom." He nods, urging me to go on. "Has a best friend, who has a sister?"

"Yes."

"And her friend at college, has a cousin and the cousins brother..."

"Has a soon to be dick-less acquaintance." Logan finishes off, raising a bewildered eyebrow. "Don't make much sense to me."

I shoot a warning glare at him, wishing he would keep his opinions to himself. "It makes perfect sense to all those people with half a brain."

"I have half a brain Marie." He sighs, crossing his arms and walking further into the store.

"You could have fooled me, for someone with such a low I.Q, I'm surprised you can tie your own bootlaces." I retort, eyeing his jet black boots and the double knots. "Or did Ororo tie them for you?"

"Um, I don't mean to be a nuisance, but I'm really in a hurry."

I snap my head away from a scowling Logan, realising that the man is standing beside us, listening to me berate my ex-lover. Turning my back on Logan, I usher the man over to the shelving units, littered with an assortment of colourful, vibrant and sexually pleasing toys. Looking down I spot that the man is still clutching the penis pump. "Do you think she's going to need that? After all, she will no longer have a... um, thing after the procedure."

"I'll give it to her anyway, she might as well use it while she still has the chance." The man tells me, with a creepy smile. "I can have it back, once she forfeits her rights, it'll only be clutter."

That is gross, and an extremely unhealthy way to view a penis pump, I don't actually think that there is a correct way to view a penis pump, come to think of it what I do know, is that Logan would never need to obtain one of them, because he is very well endowed, I'm sure you have yet to banish my speech from your thoughts. "Just read the instructions, okay? I wouldn't want you to burst a blood vessel."

"A sexy, bumble bee costume."

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" I reply a little startled, wondering if I have missed any part of the conversation.

"I have a little thing for bumble bees you see, do you have any costumes like that?" The freckled, pudgy, middle aged man repeats.

I thought I had seen it all, former mutant terrorists buying whips and glow in the dark lube, former friends buying blow up dolls named Marie, but no. This has eclipsed every other customer's request, they have been overshadowed by this man, and his fascination with bumble bees. "They sting." I utter, before I even have a chance to think straight.

"They do indeed, I vacationed close to a bumble bee farm, oh you should have seen them buzzing around. Not even Pamela Anderson, in a revealing bikini, could make me feel so..."

"We don't need to hear it." Logan says gruffly, from his spot at the counter.

I happen to agree with Wolverine, although I would never admit that. "And this woman, she shares your love for bumble bees as well?"

"No, the costume is for me. I like to wear different outfits when I cut the grass." He informs me, as if it's a perfectly normal occurrence. "It brightens my day."

"Does your neighbour dress up to?" Logan snorts. "I might swing by your place, I could do with a laugh."

Ugh, I'm tempted to hit my head against the wall repeatedly, no, I should hit Logan's head against the wall. He only stands there and smirks, what is he trying to do, get me fired?

"Tom's a Star Wars fan, he cuts the grass in his backyard with a light saber." To my astonishment, the man doesn't sound insulted at all. "It's only plastic, so it doesn't work as well as a real one, but beggars can't be choosers."

"It sounds like you have a ball, and I've really enjoyed having this chat." I start, choosing my words carefully. "But, I don't want to keep you."

"Oh, of course." The man responds, taking a swift look around. "I need one more thing."

I know I'm probably asking for a whole heap of trouble, but what the hell. "Sure, I'll help you in any way I can."

He stands opposite the lingerie display, his nose touching the lacy, woven unmentionables . "There are so many choices, would you mind modelling them for me?"

I splutter and cough at the mans brash, and audacious question. Good God, when I said I would help him in any way, I didn't mean that I would stand in see through bras and panties, while he got his rocks off.

A resounding, thunderous and viscous growl sends a chill down my spine, and my nipples harden. Ahem, I'm only human, you know and I've told you before that the growling really turns me on.

The man's brow wrinkles and he removes his glasses, wiping away the smears with the bottom of his sleeve. "Do you have a dog?" He asks me. I shake my head, glancing at Logan, who has his fists clenched tightly and the look of a homicidal maniac ingrained on his handsome face . "I could have sworn I heard one growling."

Think fast Marie, this is an opportunity I can't miss, a chance for an amazing Logan put down. "You feed a stray dog once, or uh, eight times in one night and they always return for more."

He seems satisfied with my explanation and turns his attention back to the lingerie. An extremely naughty thought swoops into my mind, chasing away my common sense and I feel empowered, I am a scorned woman dammit, and I will have my revenge. "About the modelling?..."

"Say no more." I smile at the man, taking a selection of slight, undersized, skimpy panties, and three red hot, Scarlet bras from the collection.

I chance a sly, roguish look at Logan, as I walk to the changing room, hips swinging. He seems to have developed a tick, his left eye is blinking much faster then the right. That makes me smile to myself, he's a hot blooded male, and I, the stubborn, sweet, and sugary Marie am getting to him. Logan will need to visit his dentist, and floss his teeth regularly after I have gotten through with him. Even a guy with a healing factor can't overindulge on sugar, without getting a cavity.

Pulling the curtain closed behind me, I perform a victory dance and wiggle my butt in the mirror. Oh yes, one-nil to me and wait until he takes a gander at me in this.

"Does your friend have Tourettes?" The man questions, sounding slightly nervous. "His cursing is making me feel uneasy."

I throw my shirt to the floor, and calmly peek around the curtain, hiding my body from view. "Can one of you help me with my dang bra? It seems to be stuck."

A pure light bulb, eureka moment, don't you think? Logan is marching towards me before I have even finished speaking. "Don't even think about it bub." He warns the crestfallen man. "She's mine."

Oh, so now I'm his? He dumps me and wants me back, he snaps his fingers and I come running, is that what he expects from a woman? Well, fuck him and no, I didn't mean it like that, even though he is stood before me, undressing me with his eyes. "Just unclasp me."

Muttering under his breath, he snaps the curtain closed and within seconds has me pinned against the wall, his hips jutting against mine "The only guy." He snarls, lifting my chin up so our eyes meet. "That's gonna see you..." He leans closer to me, his lips lightly brushing past my ear ."Dressed in your underwear." His eyes grow hazy, and his voice is husky. "Is me, not him." He growls, pointing in the direction of the curtain. "Or any other lowlife, only me, got it?."

I gasp when my bra is unfastened within seconds, and a pair of burning, calloused hands are rubbing my nipples. My discarded bra, a present from Jubilee last christmas, is dropped faster then Victoria Beckham at a 'Smile, your face won't crack' convention."I said, got it?"

I want to say no, tell him to take a running jump off a very short pier, without a pair of armbands and watch his heavy metal ass sink to the bottom of the sea. I can't find the words though, they slip through my fingers every time I try to hold onto them for dear life. I know that he's marking his territory, I'm only a red fire hydrant and he's the domineering male dog cocking his leg, ready to take a piss and warn the other males in the vicinity, that I'm his.

Groaning, who's groaning? Shit, that's me, he's biting me, sinking his teeth into the pale flesh of my bouncing, perky breasts. I pull his head closer, tugging his hair with my long slender fingers, he grunts in approval, and latches onto my left bosom, sucking and sweeping his way with his tongue over my erect nipples.

"Are you okay in there? I can hear strange noises." My abandoned customer calls.

Panting heavily, Logan gazes up. "God damn it."

I prise my breasts free of his groping hands, teeth and tongue. What the heck just happened? Please don't answer that, I know what 'happened', but what I really want to know is why did I let it happen? I was only supposed to tease him, let him know that I am a force to be reckoned with. Ha, I must have Logan issues, my breasts certainly have Logan issues. Those bite marks are going to bruise, they'll be real beauties by tomorrow morning.

"Have you tried it on yet? Can I come in and have a look?"

No, he can't come in and have a look, three is most definitely a crowd in a cramped space, more commonly know as the dreaded changing room.

"That does it." Logan barks, his eyes teeming with violence, feral fury and he has a hard on, I think that has more to do with me, then the man though.

"Logan don't!" I shriek, watching him crack a kink out of his neck, and storm away. Aw crap, I fight with my shirt, tugging it roughly over my head. Its on back to front, and I've forgotten to put my bra back on, I don't care, I have to reach Logan before he kills my last customer of the day. Thoughts boomerang around my mind, my story will appear on the ten o'clock news in big bold letters... Horny girl held over sex store slaying, I'll be led away in handcuffs, I'm going to have my mug shot taken and I'm not wearing a fucking bra, also is aiding and abetting a murderer a sackable offence?

********

"Where the fuck are you goin'?" Logan demands, following me, my heels pounding against the side walk, in my weak attempt to out walk him.

"Back to my motel" I answer flippantly, not wanting to be the cause of another argument.

"Why the hell are you pissed at me!?"

"You could have cost me my job!". I shout, fighting against the strong arm around my waist, talk about quick work, he has gone and immobilised me with one stupid arm.

"Your boss laughed her ass off Marie, and that guy won't be botherin' anyone for awhile." He sighs, hugging me to him. "Especially, not you."

"Oh no you don't!" I say, causing him to stumble, with a punch to the stomach. "You're not getting away with it that easily, Mister."

"Jesus, when did you get so strong?" He grouses, hand to stomach and waiting for the pain to subside.

"I've had years of practice." I inform Logan, frowning at him. "So, back the fuck off because there's more where that came from"

He arches an eyebrow at my use of language, and smirks to himself. "Anyone ever tell you, you've been spendin' too much time with me?"

"Yes, all the time." I admit.

"I'll give you a ride. My bike's parked round the corner."

I wish he would give me a ride, no, thoughts like that need to be banished, away with you, vile, revolting, glorious, erotic thought you. Stop getting excited Marie, ah! He can smell your arousal a mile away.

********

"You're stayin' in the honeymoon suite." Logan states, lingering at the door, obviously waiting for my new husband to jump out and scream 'Surprise!'

I throw my fabulously large handbag on the bed, and rifle through it. My boss Amanda gave me a few freebies, she wants her staff to own a silver tongue, the gift of the gab, and most importantly she wants us to be able to sell Hugh Hefner a lifetime supply of love potion, if he so happened to walk into the store, having lost his multi-million dollar empire and long line of blond Playboy bunnies.

"It was the only room they had left." I lie, emptying the contents of my bag and blushing furiously.

He strides over to the bed, and is probably thinking that we're both going to be camping in this room for the rest of the night. "This might come in handy." He tells me gruffly, reaching for a generously proportioned paddle, with the word 'Mine' engraved in blood red capital letters, it really would leave an impression on your ass cheek if you were hit soundly with it. Who the fuck would want the word mine branded on their cheek? Just like a cow, waiting to be slaughtered. "It's genuine leather."

"Don't go getting any ideas." I scold, snatching the paddle away from him, and glancing at the rest of the damn freebies. I'm now the proud owner of: A fetish fantasy bondage kit, a leather penis harness, a studded choker, a blind fold , a small egg shaped vibrator, with a remote control and a waxing kit... for down there. Spotting an envelope, I rip it open and read the letter addressed to me.

Marie,

I believe in rewarding my best employees, and you seem to have bagged yourself an excellent man.

Try these products and report back to me, I look forward to hearing the juicy details.

Amanda xxx

Fucking hell, my boss is a bondage obsessed, born and bred, whirlwind of a Yankee, middle aged crackpot.

"What's it say?"

"Nothing!" I cry, ripping the letter to shreds and hiding the evidence in my pants pocket. "Nothing you need to concern your rock like head with."

"Darlin' we need to talk, look, about the other night..." He says, watching me intently for any sign of an emotional breakdown.

"I don't want to hear it, forget about the frisky business in the changing room." I order, picking up the waxing kit and walking to the bathroom. "It was a moment of sheer stupidity, and weakness!"

I slam the door closed and study the box, hmm, lets see. Waxing strips, rub them between your palms, peel them back and apply to your bikini line. All that's left is to rip the unwanted curls away from my treasure trove. I can do this, I'm a woman, my pain threshold can withstand giving birth to a baby rhino or just a baby the size of a small rhino.

"Marie, I was tryin' to protect you."

"Go away, Logan, I'm busy."

Resting a leg on the bath tub, and pulling my pants down, I purse my lips, concentrating on applying the first wax strip. That's it, neatly does it, just like cutting grass, sort of, and my lady garden has been urgently requiring a tidy up, ever since I hit puberty.

"My past, it ain't good, I've lost people. People I cared for." Logan grunts, kicking the door. "They got too close."

I'm not exactly in the best position to open the door and comfort him, So I listen silently, counting down the seconds until I have to pull. "Hey, I'm spillin' my guts out here, you even listenin'?"

"I..Um, well...I." Great, now I'm stammering, how can he find me endearing at all.

"Fine."

"No, Logan wait!" I yell, ripping off the strip and leaping to my feet. Fucking hell, the pain, the fucking pain, that bollocking fucking, waxing strip!

Hopping from foot to foot, attempting to rid myself of the searing pain, I trip over the stained bathroom rug, and yelp, as I crack my head on the side of the porcelain sink and crash to the floor, I'm almost a tree in the wilderness, surrounded by muscle bound Lumberjacks and they're all shouting 'Timber!'

The door is thrown open, and I hear the sound of heavy footsteps. "What in the hell happened?"

I try to sit up, my head engulfed in dense fog, and a giggle escapes my lips. "Marie? You okay?"

"I'm... who are you?" I ask, gazing at a man, sporting the craziest hairstyle I have ever seen. "Wait a minute, who am I?"

* * *

**_I bet you weren't expecting that ending were you!? ;) _**

**_Oh and I thought I should add that, no I'm not into all the...Uh, bondage stuff I've thrown into this chapter! LMFAO, honestly I'm not, I thought it would just make a funny addition! Along with the bumble bee loving man, and the changing room scene...Ahem. :P And I have nothing against Vicky Beckham, I just think she needs a sandwich and obviously she needs to smile more! :) -----Just like that! _**


	23. Golden Slumbers

**_I'm having a hard time uploading this, so hopefully this works and you can all read this! :) Thanks to everyone that reviewed, bologna121, Soon2Bme, jackmasgrrl, Kris89, dulcesweet, ElizaV, pinkdrama, wolverette, yaimlight, dancinqt21, alexmonalisa, Brittany and The Canadian known as Kinetically Charmed! _**

**_And if you thought the last chapter was silly, wait until you read this one. What can I say, a girl with a head injury is fun to write for ;) _**

**Golden Slumbers**

The man, the breathtakingly beautiful, hot, hot, hot man crouches in front of me. With a furrowed brow and a look of concern flickering in his golden brown eyes.

"You serious?"

"Um, yes." I cautiously reply, gazing around my unfamiliar surroundings. Hmm, a cheap, third rate bathroom, how interesting. "Did I say something wrong?" He doesn't appear to be exactly tickled with my answer.

His frown deepens and wow, he's a real looker. I bet he's taken though, a trophy wife, a stunning bouncy blond on his arm. I can just picture her, she's probably a lap dancer named Tammy-Lynn, doesn't it make you sick?

"Hey, pay attention."

"Huh?"

"I said, how many fingers am I holdin' up?" His eyes narrow, at my lacklustre response and he taps me on the nose. "How many?"

He's definitely married, only an unhappily married man can express that much anger towards a person. Gosh, I can't believe how irritated he looks. "You have a temper." I unashamedly giggle, muffling my laughter with my hands. His wife must have kicked his ass out of the bedroom.

"She's making you sleep on the couch, isn't she?"

"I ain't gotta clue what you're talkin' bout." He growls, wait a second... How can a fully grown man, who is evidently in his prime, growl like that? What am I, his prey? Is this a kinky game of cat and mouse? "Now let me see your head." Mr. Heavenly hands demands, gripping me gently around the wrist and pulling me to him.

Is that what they're calling it these days? "Whoa there fella!" I squawk, slapping his hand away. "What is this? A free for all in a whore house?"

Apparently a little startled at my reaction, he shakes his head, I can almost hear his brain screaming in protest, rattling against the bony framework of its cage. "Marie." He warns, making me feel like a mere child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

I blink at him, feeling as confused as ever. "Who's Marie? Do you have another girl hidden away in here?" That's perfectly possible you know, there are all sorts of unsavoury characters around.

"You, you're Marie."

"Oh, I am?" I grouse, wrinkling my nose in a childlike disgust. "Well, I'd rather not be, I don't like it. Are you sure?"

"Yeah I'm..." He stops mid sentence and clears his throat, his Adams apple bobbing up and down. A bead of sweat is gradually trickling from his forehead, guided by gravity. I would happily use my tongue to cool him down. I really don't think I should be having these particular thoughts about a man I have only just met, it must be a flaw in my forgotten upbringing.

"You mind coverin' yourself up? It's kinda' distractin'." He grunts, his pupils dilated. They are the size of your grandmothers best china dinner plates, you know the ones she keeps safely away from your klutz of a grandfather, until the air is brimming with Christmas cheer.

I follow his line of vision and gasp audibly, I'm fucking naked from the waist down and I have company. I didn't even feel a draft, it must be the intense heat radiating from his body. I can almost see myself toasting marshmallows beside a camp fire, wait... I think my own marshmallow is roasting, toasting and aflame.

Why on earth is my body reacting this way to a growling grump?

A random guy is checking out my hoo hah, I note with pleasure, it does wonders for my self esteem, hell its sky rocketing, those darn American astronauts would be eating their hearts out.

"Pull your pants up." He orders, his nostrils flaring and those damn eyes snapping shut. "Now dammit! I can't think straight."

"Aw, is the big bad man scared of little ol' me?" I tease, placing my hands on his shoulder and hauling myself onto a pair of unsteady bare feet.

His eyes open, and they close almost immediately when he sees the spectacle that he is faced with.

"Jesus Christ." Mr. Hot and heavy groans. "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"Why thank you, I'm glad that you approve."

I'm giggling again, and I'm not entirely sure as to why. Maybe I have had a little too much to drink?

I don't remember drinking though, come to think of it I don't remember anything. My head feels as thought its been trapped in the jaws of a wrathful, treacherous alligator... I'm the female equivalent of Steve Irwin, good day and nice to meet you.

I skilfully dress my bottom half with a pair of stonewashed jeans, who needs panties? Especially the magically disappearing kind of panties and stagger around the lazy lump, who is still crouching beside the door. "You can look now, my vile vagina has been veiled from view."

Oh, I'm brilliant, I'm spectacular and what the hell are these on the bed? "Wow, I'm a dominatrix." I say to to the man, tracing a finger across a leather paddle in fascination and turning to look at him. "What's my mistress name?"

"You ain't no damn dominatrix and you sure as hell better not be anyones mistress." Mr snarl first and ask questions later... Uh, snarls.

"Ma'am, you need to address me as Ma'am, you ignorant, uncultured, insolent, disrespectful Kangaroo scrotum!"

The Kangaroo scrotum in question has an eyebrow, and this eyebrow almost shoots to his hairline.

I think I have found my true calling, a dominatrix with a potty mouth and love for Australian culture, animals and people. That and Canadians, aren't they fantastic, upstanding, maple leaf loving folk?

"I need to get you back to the mansion." He announces, reassuring himself of his plan.

"You live in a mansion?" I question curiously. "Then why are you here in a tacky motel room with a dominatrix?"

"No, well yeah, you do too." He sighs, taking off his leather jacket and handing it to me. "Put this on, its gonna be cold on the bike."

"I live in a mansion? I'm rich then?" I must be the most world renowned, financially successful dominatrix this world has ever seen.

"Its a school."

"We live in a dominatrix school?" I ask feeling flummoxed. "What do I teach? How to destroy a man slave in seven steps?" If that is my job title, then I hope he is my teaching assistant, oh shit I'm drooling.

"For fu... look, you've taken a hard knock to your head." Mr. More- drool -worthy- then- a- rampant- sex -God-hung-like-an-Australian-derby-race-horse-housed-in-a-stable-with-the-Marilyn-Monroe-of-the-horse-world. "Why the hell are you laughin'? This is serious."

"A horse with a blond wig, the beauty mark and that white dress. Don't you get it?" I snigger, ignoring the leather jacket he is offering to me. "Its so..."

"Shit."

"That wasn't the word I was looking for." I scold, clutching my head in my hands. "I don't feel so good. I feel, I feel... I feel like Rolf Harris, do you have a didgeridoo or a wobble board I could use?"

I fall onto the bed shaking with laughter. Oh the look on his face, have I just grown another head or something? Maybe another set of breasts? "Who?"

"Rolf Harris, you know... Tie me Kangaroo down sport, and um, Can you tell what it is yet?" I say, with my best impression of an Australian accent, of course I only sound as if I am high on crack and attempting to impersonate an Irishman, with a mouthful of peanuts and a belly full of wine.

"Let me get this straight, you don't remember me but you still know who this Rolf Harris guy is?" I nod my head, which only makes it ache and swim with all those pretty colours, all the colours of the rainbow. "Where can I find this Rolf?" He demands, marching over to me and growling once more.

"You're growling, did you know that you're growling?" I beam, raising my arm and trying to snatch the ribbon of buoyant colours as they rise up, up and away. Oh no, they're back again and this time they have changed shape. "Is that why your wife kicked you to the curb? Didn't she like your growling?"

He quirks a bushy eyebrow again and looks oh so cute in his confusion. "My wife?"

"Yeah, Tammy-Lynn the lap dancing sensation."

"There's only one girl I want as my wife and Tammy whatever the fuck, she sure as hell ain't it."

"I think whoever that girl is, she'll be lucky to have you." I reply, crawling across the bed and closer to those awe-inspiring shapes. Some are large, others are small, thick and erect and some are evidently floating fleshy shrivelled up bananas... Can you tell what it is yet?

"I think I'm the lucky one." He grunts, his lips twitching and a shadow of a smile threatening to break on his gloomy face. "What you doin'?"

"Can't you see them?"

"See what?"

"The shapes, those fucking flying, floating, fleeing, fantastical, extremely manly, masculine, male, macho, manlike... casts, conformations, constructions, configurations... um, makes, models and molds of boners, pork swords, man meat, peckers, dongs, wing wongs, wieners, missile launchers, sperm pumps..." I'm at the edge of the bed, hand at the ready and wondering why I can't catch these illusive , kaleidoscopic penis's.

"I get the picture." He almost sounds worried for my sanity, and loops an arm around my waist, stopping me from falling off the bed. "Put the jacket on, we're goin' for a ride."

"But..."

"No buts, hold your arms out, its cold out there, especially on the bike."

"You ride a bike?" I chortle, pictures appearing in my mind of a tandem bicycle. "A bicycle fit for two... No, no... How does it go?" Come on think, think, think, my poor muddled penis seeing brain. "Oh I know!"

"Hey, arms out!" He orders, as my arms snap back to my sides. "Marie, we need to get you to Hank."

He growls to himself and forcefully yanks my arms up and starts to put the jacket on me. "Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do, I'm half crazy.. blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... It won't be a stylish marriage, I can't afford a carriage, but you'll sweet upon the seat, of a bicycle made for two."

Mr. I- really- don't- like- that- song-in-fact-I fucking-hate-it places my arms back at my side and lifts me off the bed, not uttering a word. "We will go tandem, As man and wife, Blah, blah, Peddling away, down the road of life...Where are you taking me?"

I have only just realised that he is heading out of the room, with me tucked securely in his arms. "To my bike, then the mansion, then to Hank."

"On your tandem?"

"No, my motorcycle." He answers, with a frown. As if to say 'Do I look like the type of guy that would be caught dead riding a fucking tandem?'

"You do know that this would be considered kidnapping don't you?" I ask, attempting to wriggle out of his iron like grip as he carries me bridal style, through the motel corridor, past the empty check in desk and out into the cold night air.

"I don't care, your brains outta' whack, your physical responses are fucked and I can smell blood. You're up a shit creek without a paddle darlin'."

I beam like a conniving Tinker bell who has just bagged Peter Pan all for herself "Fuck Wendy, she can go home, back to London and back to her babysitting dog!"

He props me on the front of his bike and reaches for a helmet. "See what I mean? Your brain is seriously outta whack."

"Only for those that haven't seen a certain Disney movie." I tell him, slouching to the side, feeling ever so drowsy and lethargic.

"You need to try and stay on the bike." He berates, sitting behind me and allowing my head to lull backwards onto his chest and I gaze up at the blanket of stars. "Or you're gonna do yourself another injury."

"You can't lecture me, I don't even know you." I groan sluggishly, too tired to fight against the constricting helmet being strapped onto my head.

"You do know me, you know me better then anyone else."

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do." He replies, holding me close and positioning me between his strong thighs as he turns the ignition.

I brush a hand down his muscular arms and he fidgets uncomfortably. "You have muscular arms, you would make a reaaaaally gooood lumberjack."

"I was, once."

"Did you cut down trees? Wear high heels? Suspenders and a bra? Did you wish you'd been a girlie just like your dear Papa?" I half sing, half laugh, and um... half snort.

"No." He grunts unamused, the engine rumbling to life beneath us.

"Too bad, I thought all lumberjacks were inclined to lean that way." I sigh, my head once again falling back.

"Just concentrate on holdin' on darlin', or you're gonna end up road kill." He informs me sternly, driving out of the parking lot, past a long line of more and more and more shapes.

"Hmm, that's nice, but do you think you can step on it? The thumping great, balloon like inflated, hovering power drills, joysticks and Captain winkies are following us."

* * *

**_So how many of you get the Lumberjack joke? Please raise your hands, so I can congratulate you on having good taste ;) Lol!_**

**_Also added the Canadian references for Kinetically Charmed, Tinkerbell was for Soon2Bme and Rolf Harris and the Australian stuff??? Well, that was for my own benefit LMAO _**

**_Oh, and what colour eyes does Hugh Jackman have? Are they green or brown?? Sadly the man himself it too busy to come here and pose infront of me... doesn't life suck?_**


	24. Yellow Submarine

_**Did you know that The Beatles wrote 276 songs? And no, that doesn't mean that there is going to be 276 chapters! LOL, I'm just happy that there is so many choices for chapter titles ;) Honestly, I've been waiting to use this song for a title, I set myself a little challenge and yes I really do need to get a life :P **_

_**Anyway, thank you to everyone for reviewing, also nice to know that people are liking the newest chapter. And I forgot to ask but do the reviewers in the U.S and Canada know who Rolf Harris is? Ok, a slightly random question, but I've got no idea, if not then you wouldn't have understood parts of the last chapter. **_

_**And I have decided that: Hugh Jackman has brown eyes with flecks of green and we're all going to get together, meet up in Manhattan and kidnap Hugh... I'm now sitting here waiting for the police to kick down my front door, its all alexmonalisa's fault! LMAO **_

**Yellow Submarine**

Little lights, and shimmering stars, drab darkness and the overpowering smell of gasoline. This has really been a night to remember, even if my mind is having, according to Mr I – won't – tell – you – again – hold – on – tight – before – you – hurt – yourself – dammit, a rough ride because I'm apparently a "Fuckin' self obsessed, clumsy idiot, who can't stop herself from touchin' her bits."

I can't help it, I'm not trying to make him feel uncomfortable in my presence, its just that it itches and burns, how could that have happened? I thought I was a dominatrix, I'm the one that is supposed to punish men for their misdeeds, it shouldn't be the other way around.

"We're here."

I look around my surroundings, trying to imprint the unfamiliar view on my delicate mind. "Um, where's here?" I ask, as he tugs the helmet off my head.

We are both still sitting on the bike, feeling the warm engine quietly cool down. "The mansion." He sighs, shifting his weight on the bike. "Remember?"

"Are you trying to be funny?"

"I don't do funny darlin'."

That's a pity, I like a man with a sense of humour, I think I do anyway... Well, the person I currently am, she likes humour, Australians, Canadians, lives in a dominatrix school and is being stalked by flying penis's.

"Why not?" I question, leaning back and cocking my head slightly.

"Its overrated." He replies gruffly, his face turning noticeably red, and his eyes widening.

Something considerably hard and what I can only describe as a attention grabbing bulge, makes itself known in the small of my back. "Does your little friend always make an appearance when you ride your cute little bike?"

"No, it only makes an appearance when I'm ridin' somethin' else cute and little"

"Then maybe you should see a doctor." I tell him candidly, stepping off the bike and walking towards a mind blowing, sports car, that must have cost an arm and a leg to buy. "It might be broken."

I glance at my reflection in the car window and those pesky, persistent penis's are still here, floating above my head and taunting me. "The only person seein' a doctor is you."

"I'm not sick." I slap a sinister shape away, only for it to stick its tongue out at me. I didn't know that they had tongues? This really is a peculiar night, I have probably inhaled too much gasoline.

"This ain't up for debate, now come on." Mr hard and bulging, orders, flipping a switch on the wall, and I watch the garage door close automatically.

"I thought I was the dominatrix? The one that ruled you with an iron fist?"

I circle the car, ignoring the growling behind me and letting my hand slide to the door handle. One quick tug and I notice that its unlocked, of all the stupid, totally misguided decisions to make. I think I'm in love with this car, its the same colour as the famous submarine that The Beatles created for one of their amazing albums. How do I even remember that?

"Don't even think about it."

"Huh?" I tease, edging myself closer to the leather upholstered seat. "Mistress..." What was my name again? It began with an 'M' didn't it? "Mistress Mary... no, that doesn't sound right, Mistress Maggie... nuh uh, Mistress Maple? No that just sounds silly, Mistress Mabel?..."

"Marie!" The fuming, sexy man barks. "Get your ass over here!"

"That's it, well done. Now where was I? Oh yeah, Mistress Marie, is going to take this baby out for a drive. If you're lucky, you might get to see me later big boy!" I leap into the safety of the car, pressing a button that luckily locks all the doors. Mr I – am – very – unhappy – with -you -at -the - moment – now - hear – me - roar, looks positively terrifying, I would be pissing my pants... if I was wearing any.

Now where are the keys? If the owner is idiotic enough to leave the car unlocked then... bingo, I flip open the glove box and there are the keys, winking at me and begging for me to slam them into the ignition, I'm sure driving can't be that hard? If the growling man, the one that is punching his fist against the glass and issuing a string of threats, can do it then it must be a cinch, child's play, a piece of cake... no, a breeze, this is going to be a breeze.

Okay, shit, why am I reversing? I want to go fucking forward. "Go fucking forward, you silly yellow submarine you."

What does this do? I poke the stick, its has letters printed beside it if that helps, and then I poke it again, no I'm still going backwards. I hear a crash and gazing casually over my shoulder, I witness the back end of my submarine, smash into a wall and Mr Bond – James – Bond leaps out of the way. Its time to get more physical I think, placing my hand on the stick, I move it backwards, forwards and side to side. "Ah ha!" I cry, clapping my hands together. "On wards and upwards!"

Putting my foot down on the accelerator, the tyres screech and I whoop and cheer, when the car lurches forward and the garage door is now in plain sight. I only stop my excessive cheering when I hear a crack and a loud, almost ear-splitting "FUCKIN', SON OF A BITCH!"

Um Oops, I think I have just run over his foot. I wind the window down and peer over at his grimacing form. "Sorry, but that was pretty dumb of you to get in the way like that, so in-fact what I'm trying to say is, that I'm not sorry at all, it was your own stupid fault"

He is hopping on one foot, the other held in his hands and his lips tightly drawn into a scowl. "I'm glad you got that leather paddle Marie, Cause I'm gonna..."

"I don't have time for this Bigfoot, I've got a sea of green to find." And with that I leave a car sized hole in the garage door, a hopping mad, cursing and fist waving man behind and I spot an audience of dominatrix schooled well wishers spilling out onto the lawns.

Now, where is my sky of blue and sea of green?

* * *

**_I'm not going to aplogise for the teasing length of this chapter ;) I'm writing the next installment now, and if you're really kind and review, I might even get it posted within the next 24hours. Come on you know you want it... LMFAO _**


	25. Magical Mystery Tour

**_As promised here is the chapter! Thanks to Mistress Pinkdrama, Mistress Starlight2twilight, Mistress Maggie, Mistress Glykera, Mistress bologna121, Mistress Sapphire Mind, Mistress jackmansgrrl, Mistress JimandSteve, Mistress dancinqt21, Mistress HRInuyashaFan16, Mistress Soon2Bme, Mistress Sean?, Mistress alexmonalisa and Mistress ElizaV :) _**

**_And for all of you that don't know Rolf Harris, shame on you! And no he has nothing to do with Harry Potter. You guys have no idea what you're missing! PMSL I thought every child grew up watching Rolf Harris and his didgeridoo... Okay, I know that sounds kind of rude! LMFAO but I really didn't mean it the way it probably sounds ;) _**

**_Anyway, so just sit there read and endure the first part of the chapter, I don't think its my best, but I had to set it up like that to accommodatethe ending... which I happen to love! You know what? Just read and let me know your thoughts as usual :) Oh, and I'm thinking after we kidnap Hugh, we obviously need to bring him here to the UK, he might think twice before suing are arses for emotional distress if we let him see his mum. And yeah, I could be persuaded to drag Ryan Reynolds along for the ride. ;)_**

**Magical Mystery Tour**

It has taken me thirty minutes of hazardous driving, many near misses and a few collisions with the same damn postbox... The poor Eduardo family are now going to have to receive their mail through the letterbox, just like every other person on this planet... It wasn't my fault, no really it wasn't, it was blocking my route, the short cut I had to take across their front yard. When the postbox started to ridicule my lack of driving skills, telling me that women made lousy drivers, I ran over it again, just to prove a point. But, despite my short comings, I have finally found my sky of blue and sea of green.

Okay, so its not actually the sea, its a patch of grass, and the sky of blue? That's a spot light, two spot lights, shining into the starry nights sky and do you know where I am? Oh, you'll never guess, its called the 'Sky Of Blue Strip Joint', can you believe it? I have found my sky of blue, in a bustling city and in the middle of the night.

I wonder if I have ever been to a strip club before? I am a dominatrix, I wonder if I can find a man to punish, prevail and sit on top of, I don't mean literally to sit on top of a man. Now you've done it, I have all these naughty thoughts in my mind and I want to find myself a real man's penis, I want a man inside of me and I need to get laid.

Before I have even driven into the parking lot, I'm out of the car, I've left it in the middle of the road and I'm marching past the bouncers, flashing them a smirk and I'm down the stairs. My eyes adjust to the crude change in lighting, there are cages dotted around a large room, scantily dressed women are dancing, men are leering at them beer in hand and a rolled up twenty at the ready.

The walls are painted a deep purple, the bar is littered with drunken males and there is a stage with a lady that resembles Fred Flintstone in drag. She's stripping away her many layers, shaking her buxom booty and revealing her hairy legs to the drooling punters. I think that there is a distinct possibility that she is not a she. That certainly makes one more male in this joint for me to fuck.

Now where is Barney Rubble?

A young male catches my eye at the bar, he's smoking a cigarette and is beckoning me over. His eyes admitting a warm glow, I can see fire, a flame flickering in his pupils. I sit on the stool beside him and he grins devilishly. "What are you doing here Rogue? I never took you for this kind of girl."

"Maybe people change." I reply, watching him play with his lighter. "What did you call me?"

"Rogue, I suppose you go by Marie now, huh?"

Marie, Darling, Mistress, Rogue... I'm slowly starting to lose the plot, what is my name? "Do you know me then?"

He leans closer to me, the stale smell of beer on his breath. "I know the whole blow up doll thing was kind of awkward, but there's no need to pretend that you don't know me." He whispers. "Hey barkeep, keep the beers coming and one for my lady friend!"

Oh, we must be friends then, I wonder where we met? "So, where did we meet?"

"Fine, I'll play along, we met at the school."

"You went to the school too?" I gasp, with sheer delight. "You're like me then?"

"Sure I am." He smiles, nodding a thanks to the bartender.

What are the chances of me stumbling into another dominatrix loving person, this is such an amazing coincidence, I really must live a charmed life. "What's your name again?" I ask him, I'm tempted to call him Barney, I've noticed that he highlights his hair and I'm sure he would look great in a fur dress.

"People call me Pyro, you can call me John."

I take a sip from my bottle of ice cold beer, and let the new found information sink in. "You want a drag?" John inquires, passing me the crudely rolled cigarette. "I think its time we got this party started, it'll be just like old times."

He seems lost in bitter-sweet memories, and I inhale the smoke deeply, closing my eyes and savouring the taste. My lungs are clogged with pollution and my brain is battling to remember.

"Leave some for me." He chuckles, playfully snatching the cigarette from my fingers. "Do you remember when you and Bobby would always fight over the last drag? You would always win, the Iceman never stood a chance against you."

"My memories not what it used to be, and what kind of nickname is Iceman?" I reply, ripping the label off of my bottle.

"I think he found it in a cleaning catalogue."

The more I find out about the person I was, and the people that I am friendly with, the more I'm beginning to suspect that losing my mind is actually a cry for help. "The last drags yours Rogue."

"Thank you."

"You didn't have to fight for it this time, there's no Bobby around." He giggles, clutching the edge of the bar to stop himself from falling. "I was just... just thinking of that time, you locked him in Scott and Jean's closet... he had to sit there and... and listen to them getting frisky."

I join in the giggling, snuffing out the cigarette in the ash tray, and holding onto his shoulder for support. "I did that? Who's Scott and Jean?"

"If you don't want to talk about them, just say." He announces, wiping an amused tear from his eye. "I know it must be hard, I sometimes think that I was fighting on the wrong side, I should never have joined Magneto."

I'm lost again, but in a good way, I'm finding my surrounding beautiful, even the pole dancing Fred Flintstone and the floating penis's. There's an aching in my loins and I have an itch that I can't scratch, maybe Barney will be up for it. I grab him by the hand and pull him along with me, ignoring his weak protests, I propel him through the staff only door and usher him into a deserted room.

"That was some strong weed." John gushes. "Money well spent I would say."

I push him against the coffee machine, the urge growing in intensity and I can't fight it, I need to be touched, Its killing me, not being able to fulfil my overwhelming needs. "Touch me."

"I... um, are you feeling okay Rogue?"

"I'm fine." I groan, slamming my body into his, making the coffee machine shake in protest. "Now touch me."

Did he say that I have smoked weed? I thought that was an ordinary cigarette, is that why I am feeling this way? It can't be, I was having these thoughts before, they were only weaker and I could keep them under control.

"Is that dried blood in your hair?" He questions, sounded panicked. "Have you been on a mission?"

"Stop talking and touch me." Our noses meet, our lips are seconds from touching and my heart is about to burst in anticipation, when the door is thrown open and John squeaks, pushing me away from him.

"I didn't touch her!" He cries, backing into the corner and reaching for his lighter. "I didn't touch her Wolverine, even if I did I don't see how its any of your business."

The man I met earlier, the one with the crazy hairstyle, Lumber- jacking past, love of tandems and... didn't I run over his foot? How is he storming towards us as if nothing has happened? I thought I had at least broken a few bones.

"Wolverine, the Professor said no violence!" A dainty looking, white haired lady admonishes, appearing at the doorway, and slightly out of breath.

"Its my business bub." The man named Wolverine snarls, tuning out the women's voice. "And that was your first strike, I catch you near her again and I ain't holdin' back." He turns to the lady, nodding curtly at John. "Get him outta here, before I change my mind."

"John, come on lets talk outside."

He doesn't need to be told twice and darts out of the door, not giving me a second glance. The woman smiles kindly at me and closes the door behind her. Leaving me in here with a quietly raging man, who is on the verge of turning purple with rage.

"You steal a car, run over my damn foot." He growls, closing in on me. "Take off." I stumble backwards, my eyes searching for an escape route. "And..." His nostrils flare and he inhales the air around me. "What the fuck is the matter with you!?"

"Uh, is that a rhetorical question?"

That was most definitely the wrong thing to say, I can almost see steam billowing from his ears, as he roughly grabs hold of my arm and twirls me around, planting a stinging swat to my behind.

I jump in surprise, and is it wrong that I am now more turned on then ever? "You smoke shit when you've got a fuckin' head injury!?"

"I've got a head injury?" I reply, trying to free my arm from his cruel grip. "What are you? My dad?"

That is a question I really didn't need to ask, so, I'm being sarcastic. I know he can't possibly be my dad. Because it would be really wrong to allow myself to continue with these erotic thoughts, if we were related by blood. No, he can't be my dad, didn't he have a giant boner earlier on the bike? That could have been caused by the rumbling, pulsations of the engine though.

"You're lucky I ain't your old man." He growls, glaring at me. "What the hell were you thinkin'? You can't even drive! You ain't got a license, you coulda been killed!"

I squint at his scowling face, he seems to be genuinely worried for my safety, even though I ran over his foot in my search for a sea of green. "I just wanted to be touched."I whimper, going limp in his grip. "I need to be touched, please just touch me." I only hope that this works.

His eyes seem to darken at my request, but that must be a trick of the light. No one can do that, it must be a symptom of my apparent head injury. I'm seeing floating penis's again, they're goading me into action. I push him in the direction of a brown leather couch, he releases me from his hold and falls back onto the sofa.

He gulps as I jump on top of him, my hands wandering under his tight fitting shirt. "I can't wait any longer, I need this." I moan, kissing his stomach and smoothing a hand over his hairy chest.

"Yeah you can." He grunts flipping me over and pinning my hands behind my back. "You ain't your self Marie, we're goin' back to the mansion and I'm draggin' your scrawny ass to the doc." I struggle to free myself, but he's too strong and he stands, throwing me over his shoulder.

"You can't do this to me."

"Like hell I can't."

"You're torturing me." I complain, kicking my legs out and pounding my fists against his back. I felt his body react to me when we were on the couch, I know he wants this as much as I do. We haven't know each other long, but I want him, I want him so badly.

"Think of this as payback, you scared me shit-less earlier." Wolverine replies, casually opening the fire escape door and marching down the steps. The sound of a fire alarm, making my head pound like the beat of a bass drum, in an inexperienced house band. "Ro' open the door."

"I couldn't keep John here, he left." She sounds disappointed, as I'm dumped unceremoniously on the back seat. She should try walking in my shoes, then she would know what true disappointment is. "I hope he'll be okay, I just wish he'd returned with us."

"The punks gonna' be fine." He reassures her gruffly.

I kick out at him and fight to get to my feet. "Let me go!" Everything is starting to crumble around me and the urges are back, I'm losing my mind, I am losing what is left of my fucking mind.

"Marie, calm down." The lady soothes, patting me on the shoulder. "We're only taking you home sweetie."

"I was fine in there with Fred and Barney, I was about to get some before you interrupted! I had a one way ticket to Bedrock, literally... With the dinosaurs.. and you, you Woolly Mammoth had to ruin it!"

I'm shoved roughly back into the car and Mr Woolly Mammoth slides in next to me, slamming the door shut. "Just get in Ro' and start drivin'." My back hits the opposite door and I try the handle, to no avail. "That ain't gonna work darlin'." He smirks, cocking an eyebrow. "You're stuck with me, so settle down, you're givin' me a headache."

I huff at him, and slouch against the back passenger seat. "You wanna' talk about it?"

I glare him into silence and he shrugs non-committally. "Suit yourself." He snorts, producing a cigar and placing it between his lips. "But I ain't gonna go away, like I said you're stuck with me."

"Marie, we're here to help. From what I've heard, you hit your head extremely hard." The lady pipes up, glancing at me in the rear view mirror. "And I've noticed some changes, you're almost flaunting yourself."

"Are you a dominatrix?"

She splutters at my question, the car almost careering off the road. "What on earth would make you think that?"

"You're from that school aren't you? And your hairs white, do you get the men with a fetish for older women, you know women in their seventies and that?" I continue regardless of her stopping the car, so she can get a better look at me.

"Just keep drivin' Ro'." Wolverine sighs, lighting his cigar and winding down the window. "Whatever you say, she ain't gonna listen."

"But Logan, you can't allow her to think that we run a school for..." She gestures with her hands, causing him to chuckle. "I know our uniforms are a bit tight, and my hair might not be the regular shade of brown. I've killed a few evil men with lightening bolts too, but never out of a fetish for pain."

I sit up and quirk an eyebrow, I'm sitting in a car with a homicidal, grey haired loony. "Calm down darlin', I can smell the panic comin' off you, Marie I said...." I have to get the hell out of here.

I Lurch forward and make a half foolish attempt to escape, only to be dragged back with a strong set of arms around my waist. "Storm will you step on it! She's gettin' worse."

"I don't want to go back to your dominatrix school." I grouse, at him as he places me in his lap. "I want to go back to the strip club, Fred was stripping, she had hairy legs... I mean really hairy, worse then your body hair. Probably worse then a Sasquatch hair problem., and if he had a fetish for pain we could all get together, like the band of merry dominatrix fetish busting people that we are, and wax him into submission."

I amuse myself playing with his Indian belt buckle and he snuffs out his cigar, throwing his stogie out of the window. He takes his hands in mine and shakes his head. "Quit touchin' there and stop the grousin'."

"If you let me touch yours, I'll let you touch mine." I giggle, not at all bothered that I'm sitting in a strangers lap and blatantly flirting. Its strange and I don't quite understand it, but I feel safe in his presence.

"Later darlin', when you're back to normal." He says huskily, shifting underneath me. "And trust me, I'm gonna let you have it."

"Is everything okay back there?" The woman, what was her name? Storm? Ro'? Asks worriedly.

"Don't worry." I answer, thinking that that is what had probably turned her hair that awful colour in the first place. "We're not getting fresh in the back seat, not yet anyway."

********

"And what caused you to hit your head?" A man questions me, in a crisp upper class British accent.

"You keep telling me that this isn't a dominatrix school, but you're in a furry blue costume." I say, pointing at an enormous guy wearing a suit and tie. "You're talking in that ridiculous accent and you're probably as American as the rest of us." I nod at the smiling, friendly face of the man they call the Professor. "You have feathers peeking out from under that coat, Blondie and you." I say smirking at Wolverine. "Got an eyeful of me half naked, were in a motel room with me and a collection of bondage sex toys, got harder then woody wood pecker on the bike, whacked me fucking hard on the ass and let me sit in your lap with a promise of lots of sex when I got better." They all blink and stare at Wolverine who clears his throat, and shuffles his feet, glaring at the ground. "And the girl that met us at the door was wearing a yellow leather cat suit that just screamed kinky."

"There's certainly nothing wrong with her long term memory." The blue ape declares, taking long strides across the lab and picking up a clip board and ball point pen.

"Oh, and that other lady, Storm. Now she's a real fruitcake. Firstly, what is with the white hair? Why doesn't she just wear a wig? Wouldn't that be easier? Her man slaves would never know the difference and for a women in her line of work, she has a very prudish attitude to people getting horny in her car."

"You've said enough now darlin'."

"I've only just begun, does anyone want to explain why you're all so embarrassed over a little sex talk?" I ask, gazing at the blushing face of Blondie, and the frowning face of Wolverine. The other two men are serenely, placid and poised, they haven't even batted an eyelash at my outburst.

"We're not at all embarrassed Rogue" The phony English aristocrat claims. "Are we gentlemen?"

He is answered by an assortment of grunts, stutters and then just a sheer uncomfortable silence.

"I can assure you that I'm not embarrassed Miss Rogue, I'm a doctor, I've heard worse and nothing you can say will shock me in the slightest." Blue smiles and sits on a stool in front of my hospital/medical/fucking hard as hell bed. "Now, I hear you have been hallucinating, do you think you can describe what you have been seeing?"

I watch Wolverine out of the corner of my eye, he only sighs and leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "Well it started when he followed me to the heart shaped bed."

"Mmm hmm, mmm hmm, please continue."

"He made me put some pants on and he kept doing this growling thing." I point to my chest and do an impression of a growling stray dog with a bad case of rabies. "It came from the gut, and it.. it rumbled from deep within him."

The doctor continues scribbling down my ramblings and I lean closer to him. "Do you think he has a problem too?" I whisper in a hushed tone. "And he got hard really quickly on the bike, I mean really quickly, I only scooted a little closer to him and then wham bam... Say hello to my little friend. I don't know if its actually little though, I haven't had the pleasure of seeing it yet."

"No, I believe Logan's apparatus, so to speak, are in perfect working order." He chuckles eyeing a flustered Wolverine. "Warren I need you to fetch me a needle, I'm going to want to take a sample of our patients blood in a moment."

Me, myself and I might be having a few disagreements at the moment, like who exactly we are and we certainly can't agree on anything, but I do know that I don't like needles. "There is only one kind of prick I need and that isn't it Blue."

The man called Warren flushes brightly and wrings his hands. Maybe that's a nervous habit?

"I'm sorry Hank but I can't train under these kinds of pressures. I'll be upstairs, I'm uh, sorry."

He shoots out of the lab, leaving a trial of feathers in his wake.

"Oh dear and his training was going so well." The doctor sighs, rubbing his temples. "Where were we? Hmm, yes these hallucinations?"

"I was making a few jokes, and he was arguing with me, saying that I wasn't a dominatrix, even though the bed was covered and I mean covered by toys. Do you understand the types of toys I'm talking about?"

"Yes, I've seen many in my day. Spiked collars, leads, muzzles...." He replies, only to be interrupted by the Professor clearing his throat. "Please excuse me, and um, continue."

These really are a funny bunch of people, I think I'm going to have fun living here. "And then he kept going on about mansions, money and mistresses and it happened. These shapes appeared."

"I see, and these shapes were they large? Small? An indiscriminate size?"

"They were all large, long and they all had heads." I respond, using my hands to mime a hand job. The Logan man has his own head in his hands (And no I don't mean that one) and the pseudo Professor of English fetish is caught between amusement and a possible stroke.

"I'm still not precisely sure what you are describing to me Rogue." Mr Blue Sasquatch himself asserts, handing me his clipboard and pen. "I want you to concentrate on picturing the shape in your head and sketching a detailed version of it for me to see. Do you think you can do that?"

"Hank, I don't think you want her to do that." Wolverine grunts, wandering over to us.

"Nonsense Logan." He scoffs, waving a hand at him. "We have to let Rogue do this, I mean what is the worst that can happen? And as I've said, I'm a doctor, I've had many years of experience."

"I have to agree with Logan, Hank."

"Not you as well Charles? Well, I must say that I'm surprised."

As they continue to bicker, I lick my lips, flex my fingers, and begin to draw. I only wish that Wolverine would pose for me, you know... Like still life, it would really help me bring my sketch to Picasso's strict standard of artistic expression.

"Okay, I'm done!" I shout, silencing their petty fight of words. "Are you going to grade me? I think I've done an adequate job. If I only had some coloured pastels though, I could have really brought out the texture."

"Let me see your masterpiece then." The furry blue doctor urges, retrieving the clipboard from me and gazing at my crude sketch. "GOOD GOD!"

I guess it was a more then adequate job then, Yay for me! Could I, the richest dominatrix in the country, possibly the world, retrain and become a an artist, one that creates penis envy every time she creates one of her wonderful masterpieces?

* * *

**_For the next chapter I was thinking... writing it from Logan's POV, I think its time we all heard his thoughts on all the sticky situations. Lol _**


	26. Two Of Us

**_Thanks to those who reviewed: starlight2twilight (I don't do standup, I have stage fright) Brittany(Romance will be back very soon) I'mYourChemicalRomance(Mistress Maggie!) Sapphire Mind (There will be no Medical Nerdism in this fic, its boring Lol) alexmonalisa (I don't dare ask why its sticky) Forever Frozen (I take it that's a good reaction?) ElizaV (Yes, Hank should have listened) bologna121 (Glad you like Mistress Bologna121) Pinkdrama (Kookie ideas!? And there was me thinking I was perfectly normal, Lol! It sucks to be normal anyway) Glykera (We'll just throw a sack over Hugh's head, although it'd be a shame to cover his gorgeous face! LMAO) Kris89(Are you still laughing? :P) dancinqt21 ( I always try to be speedy, and yep Ryan here we come!) Soon2Bme (Ha, you'll have to wait to see what brings her memory back, thats if it comes back lol) Kinetically charmed (Ah! No accents! I hate them!) Dragon girlof the stars (Yes more soon, and poor hank, no not really lol) onelife01 (Thanks and I hope you like Logan's pov) rockout1 (Thankyou for the compliment) and katmac1 (Thanks, I agree Hugh Jackman is amazingly hot and totally shaggable....ahem....)_**

**_Hope you like this chapter, Bloody hell I had a hard time writing for Logan, so in the end I just made it fun, I don't think serious is a word in my vocabulary, but whoo hoo for Wolverine's thoughts ;) _**

**_Bugger! Forgot to add this earlier... For the I HEART ROGAN songfic challenge, someone is going to use the song Waking Up in Vegas, so hands off... PMSL, Dancinqt21 has very obsessive tendencies and has laid claim to this song, so all BEWARE! ;) _**

**_I'm hoping that this works, some people have been having trouble reading this chapter. So, lets just hope that this works... if it doesn't then I'm off for a drink ;) Then I'll try again later LOL. This website has been driving me absolutely mad, first this chapter shows and then it doesn't, then it does and now it isn't even showing for me!? (Starts throwing random objects around the room) _**

**Two Of Us**

It all started with a scream, coming from the far side of the mansion. If it had been anyone else, I would have thought 'Fuck it, its probably just some girl that's broken a nail, or the firecrackers found out that Justin- whatever- the- fuck -his- name- is is in town.'

Yeah the Wolverine has learnt a thing or too, there's the teen fads, the shit music, the barely there fashion, the horny boys, the PMS... And if you tell anyone about this, I will hunt you down and shred you into tiny pieces, trust me I've got the balls to do it, the claws too and they'll never find the evidence. I ain't going soft, just cause' I work and live here in the mansion, I can still threaten with the best of them, and you'd better watch it bub, cause' I don't play nice.

I recognised the scream, I'd heard it on the statue of liberty, while Bucket Head was spouting his shit, she was screaming for help, begging and pleading for anyone to save her. The second time was in the jet, after the fire punk had a point to prove and didn't care who got in the way, even a bunch of brown nosed flat foots. Marie had been thrown out of the jet, and that had scared me shitless, I had promised to take care of her and I'd let her fall out of a fucking aircraft and all I could think of was 'Why wasn't she wearing a Goddamn belt?'

Ignoring Storms shout of surprise, as I'd almost crashed into her on the way to the kids room. I took the stairs two at a time and found myself standing in the her room, searching for any intruders or foreign scents, even my claws were out ready to strike. But there was nothing, no crazy assed mutant our for revenge and no soldier taking orders from Styker, all I could hear were whimpers and soft curses coming from the bathroom. So I did what any other guy would do, if they were concerned for the kids safety, I threw open the door.

I need to stop here to make a fucking point, no this is a threat. If I ever catch anyone doing this, especially anyone with a dick, they will be getting a gut full of adamantium. Now that I've made that clear to all of you with pig shit for brains, back to the damn story.

NAKED, my brain wasn't registering anything else, only screaming 'NAKED' over and over again. What the hell had happened to Marie? She certainly wasn't a kid any more, women had beasts that I wanted to bite, nip and suck and a patch of curls that my fingers wanted to caress and play with. I'd never had those thoughts about the kid though, but seeing her naked puts things into perspective...

'Snikt'

Hey, I didn't give you permission to look at my girl, eyes on me dickhead, go and find your own perspective.

Anyway, I was staring at the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, with ample pert breasts, pink nipples, creamy wet skin, her long soapy hair was stuck to her back and the water was trickling down her naked body, over the curve of her right breast and down her thigh.

I had to bite my tongue fucking hard, I was concentrating on the blood, the wound healing and not on the sixty seven ways I could screw her in the bathroom, fuck her hard until she was screaming my name, begging for more.. She was only a kid, I kept telling myself, only for my inner Wolverine to release a primal growl at my reluctance and my dick added its two cents, its damn uncomfortable in these jeans with a hard on.

I got the hell out of there after the spider had been found, I could smell the lust coming off her in waves. And I knew it sure as hell weren't aimed at the Iceprick, I couldn't do that to her, she was too young and innocent. I didn't even know how old I was, but I was fucked up, she deserved the life I would never be able to give her. Even if I had wanted to join her in that shower, be able to touch her creamy skin and taste her, caress her, nip her from head to toe, let my fingers do the talking... Shit, I'm hard again, maybe she was right, I needed to see a doctor. Nah, I'd go see a nurse though, Marie dressed as a nurse, with one of those short tight skirts on and plenty of cleavage showing, she could take my temperature any day... Fuck, that does it, I'm soft, once this is all over and she gets her memory back, I'm off to the nearest bar for a beer and a cage fight. Make that a bottle of Whiskey and I'll fight every fucker that looks at me the wrong way.

Then I get around to teaching my class, after the shower episode and there's Marie, surrounded by snot nosed little pricks and she's rubbing her chest, dressed like a hooker and Jesus Christ I wanted her, I wanted her so badly. I knew right then that I was in trouble, cause someone could have kicked me in the fucking balls and I'd have been none the wiser... Yet again my dick got hard.

I'll skip over the next few weeks, I'm not one for talking about my feelings... Hey, don't go looking at me like that, I'm no pansy ass and Marie, she knows where she stands with me. Well she did until I fucked off to search for my past, I found out some pretty shitty things and I'm not smart when it comes to discussing stuff, so I just broke it off with her... I was trying to protect her, keep her away from harm and quit looking at me like that, okay? I know I fucked up, I know I made her cry and I know I'm the biggest asshole walking this fucked up planet right now. It was for the best, but when I found out that she had planned a date, I was pissed and I followed her, watched her down drink after drink, watched her cuddle that little shit and then watched her get on the stage.

I was jealous, full of rage and down right pissed off and when I got my ass arrested that night, it was the same damn cop that had locked me up a few months back, the one that thought Marie was a hooker. I stopped trying to take a swing at the cops though, when I saw that her fucking boyfriend was coming along for the ride to, the shithead was in tears, on about how he'd never been locked up before, all I cared about was that his hands weren't going any near my Marie tonight... And they never would again, if I had anything to do with it.

So, you've probably heard enough of my shit, but suck it up, cause' I'm not finished. I told Hank to watch Marie, to make sure that she didn't leave the lab and make an ass out of herself again, I'd always had a fucking saints patience for her, but if I had to stand there and listen to one more conversation about dominaxtrix's I was going to scream... Crap, I meant roar, Wolverine's sure as hell don't scream, they fucking roar. I kissed her on the forehead, God she looked so beautiful when she was sleeping and fucked off in search of a bar of soap and a hot shower, the thought of my girl dressed in leather and holding a whip as she spoke dirty, was almost to much for me to bare... She would make one hell of a dominatrix. Damn it, now I'm hard again, no other woman has ever had this power over me, I take one look at her and there's no ands, ifs, or buts about it... My bub's up, willing and waiting to make the next move.

I had never spent the entire night with a woman, only fucked them, waited until they were asleep, dressed and threw a few crumpled twenty dollar bills on the table and left. I hadn't ever had cause to consider the L word, yeah you know what I'm hinting at, you're lucky you're friends with my Marie, you guys have been good to her... So I'm only going to tell you this once and once only, I like her, and that's all you're getting so shut your God-damn traps, my name ain't Scott Summers and its never going to be.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, back to the present. I'm walking down the main staircase, I've had my shower, even had a quick wank, hell... A man has needs you know. I might just grab a beer and get back to Marie. Hank says she needs the sleep, of course the fur ball also thinks that she's got the strangest head injury he's ever seen and Jesus, nothing surprises about her anymore, she's a walking disaster.

My ears prick up and I hear muffled shrieks, cheering and shouts. What the fuck is going on?

I follow the trail, thankful that I have something to take my mind off of Marie and stumble into the kitchen. Which is crowded with kids and there is no way I'll ever be able to reach my beer from here, the brats are leaning against the refrigerator. Aw hell, is that a fight?

"Move it." I growl, making a group of kids scatter. Usually I'd just let them scrap and sort it out for themselves, but this fight is pretty nasty. Wait a minute... "MARIE!?"

I barge past more fucking idiots, Christ where did they all come from? Why don't guys just wear a condom? It'd make my job as a teacher so much easier. She's got her fingers latched onto the other girls hair and is scratching wildly with her free hand, one sniff and I recognise the victim, its Pryde

I loop an arm around Marie's waist and attempt to pull her away, that only makes the Kitty girl scream louder "You need to let go of her darlin'." I order gruffly, hissing in her ear. Shit, she's pulling her hair out. "MARIE!". The other girl's going to be bald, if she doesn't quit it.

She finally lets go and I hold her in my arms, glaring at our audience, Jesus I ain't no rock star and they need to get out of here. "Go now." I growl and off they run, sometimes it pays for people to be scared stiff of you. "What the hell is going on?"

The kitty girl and her boyfriend glare at their feet, Marie only returns my look. "Pryde, you gonna answer?"

"She started it!" She cries, pointing at the girl in my arms.

"You all hit your heads or somethin'?" I snort, shaking my head at the crap I have to put up with on a daily basis. "What the hell were you fightin' about?"

"Rogue shouldn't have come back after taking the cure." A small voice whispers, and Drake looks up into my narrowing eyes.

"You wanna repeat that boy?"

"Wait, what do you mean cure? Was I sick or something?" Marie asks me, with those large brown doe eyes of hers. Having forgotten all about the fight she was having minutes ago.

"We'll talk later darlin'." I tell her and eye Drake with growing disdain.

"I said she shouldn't have... Oof." I swing my fist back and clock him right on the side of his face, knocking him clean off his feet. Marie jumps back as my claws unsheathe and I stand over his shaking body.

"If you've got a problem with Rogue, then you've got a problem with me."

"Logan!" Storm yells and great... I'll never hear the end of this. "How many times do I have to tell you, not to attack the students?"

She stands with her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer. "He's not a student." I mumble, sheathing my claws and shooting the Iceprick a warning look.

"And you're not Rocky." She replies, as I cock a brow and sheepishly rub the back of my neck.

"Does that make me Muhammed Ali?" A troubled Bobby mutters from the floor, taking Ro's hand and being helped to his feet.

"Nope, Muhammed Ali had charisma, Iceboy." The yellow firecracker pipes up from the door way. "And I didn't see you land a punch, you're white too, sorry but maybe you could be the hulk."

"But the hulk's a wrestler." He hisses, when he brushes a finger over his bruised eye.

"So what?" She shrugs. "You should have seen your face when Wolvie hit you, you turned green."

"That's not the right hulk, I mean the one with the walrus moustache..."

I glance around and sniff, noticing that there is no sign of Marie. Fuck, she saw my claws, dammit I haven't told her that this is a school for mutants, that I'm a mutant and she's a former mutant... She still thinks that this is a fucking dominatrix school and now I've gone and scared her off.

Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit,


	27. Girl

**T****hank you to Brittany, I'mYourChemicalRomance, alexmonalisa, Pinkdrama, BritBabe191, wolverette, NeenaD91, Glykera, Taekwon-do-lover, dancinqt21, Mcloving grey's, onelife01 and xxBluedazexx.... for reviewing :)**

_**Another short chapter I know ;) but its fun! More to come when I get around to writing it, which should be very soon. I already know what is going to happen next :) **_

**Girl**

I am sitting on the toilet, thinking everything through. With these four walls surrounding me, I have stumbled onto a horrifying realisation, wait for it... this is not a dominatrix school.

I know, I know, you're all obviously shocked at that, aren't you? How do you think I feel? It seems that sitting on the throne helps me to thinks things through rationally, and the evidence is really amounting to one conclusion, this is a movie set.

It really is, no please hear me out. Once you listen to my reasoning's behind my theory, you will support me in my struggle to become the modern day Marilyn Monroe... without the blond hair of course.

Okay, so pay attention:

1. The doctor they called 'Hank, had the best prosthetics I have ever seen (If I have ever seen anyone in prosthetics before, that is. My mind really isn't up to scratch)

2. The sound effects coming from the phony English Professors office downstairs were amazing, Tim Burton would sell his wife and kids to get his hands on them.

3. The guy that kept following me around like a lost puppy, he had claws and they weren't CGI , maybe they were plastic. I didn't really get a good look, I needed to go for a wee. I seem to have a bladder the size of a walnut... No something smaller then that, make it a peanut.

4. The boy I met on the stairs, now he had a lizards tongue. Seriously he did, I'm not playing with you. A Lizards tongue, as in a human boy, with a non human tongue.

5. I glanced out of the window and the woman with the grey hair, she was flying. I couldn't see the strings though. Isn't technology in the twenty first century amazing?

So there you have it, you do believe me now don't you?

I flush the toilet and begin to wash my hands, even in my current state, good hygiene is a must. Have you any idea how much bacteria and germs you can pick up from a bathroom, even your own bathroom. I know this is my bathroom because the boy with the lizards tongue gave me directions, I was surprised he could still talk with that thing is his mouth.

I must be a sucker for punishment though, because my bed has no mattress. I must sleep on the floor or something. No, that doesn't make any sense... Why on earth would I be sleeping on a movie set? Can't Hollywood afford the price of a hotel room? I shrug to myself while drying my hands, our last movie must have bombed big time.

"Marie?"

Huh? That's me right? My name is Marie isn't it? I unlock the bathroom door and peek out, coming face to face with the claw guy. "You look troubled." I tell him, patting him reassuringly on the arm as I step out and close the door. "Don't be, if the last movie bombed, I'm sure it wouldn't be too much of a pain to resurrect your career. You're a hot guy, I'm sure that your target audience couldn't give a hoot what you have to say, or what you do with yourself. They only want to see your gorgeous body, they don't care what comes out of those beautiful lips of yours."

He only stares at me open mouthed, almost grappling to find the right words. "You... I... Run that by me again."

"See? You could be talking Chinese for all I know, you open your mouth and I only notice the hotness, Mmm, I like that... The hotness." I gesture wildly, my hands framing his face. "The hotness."

Mr. Hotness blinks once, twice, three times, quirks an eyebrow, then clears his throat. "You're hearin' Chinese?"

"No, I'm hearing the hotness." I giggle, pinching him on the cheek. "Oh you look so cute when you frown." I glance at my bed and ignore his bewilderment. "Can I ask you something Wolverine?"

"Logan."

"What?"

"Its Logan, uh, my name." He informs me gruffly, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh, well Logan. Do you know where my mattress is?" I ask him, walking around my room, hands on hips, searching for any sign of a lost mattress with my name on it.

"Some kids are usin' it for a fort in the woods."

I stop my search and glare at him. I can't understand why random kids would steal my mattress and set up a fort on a movie set. "Is the director happy with that?" I couldn't imagine him being exactly ecstatic over that development.

"I ain't gotta clue what you're on about again. Jesus, I think I prefer you when you're drunk darlin'."

He sighs and takes my hand in his, tugging me gently towards the door. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" I reply, quite content with being dragged along with Mr. Hotness personified.

"I'm gonna show you where you sleep."

******

"Recognise anythin'?" Logan questions me, as I gaze around the sparsely decorated room.

I walk over to the foot of the bed, where a pair of men's jeans lie crumpled on the carpet. Along with a long sleeved checkered shirt and a pair of socks.

"Only that I live with a pig." I respond, poking the abandoned clothes with my toe.

He snorts and leans lazily against the wall, hands in his pocket. "That's not the first time I've been called that. Probably won't be the last either."

My head snaps from the clothes to the man I apparently have been sharing close quarters with. "You're the pig?"

"Yeah."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." He grunts, watching me squeal and jump up and down on the spot. "You sure you should be out the lab?"

Oh my god, oh my God, oh my God, I think I am going to hyperventilate. "Shit." I hiss weakly, holding a closed fist to my chest. "I can't breathe."

Logan rushes over to me, almost tripping over his clothes on the floor, and helps me to the bed. "Hey, take it easy Marie." He orders, brushing a hand through my hair and crouching in front of me."Deep breaths darlin'."

I inhale deeply, all the while imaging what our sex life must be like. Do we even have a sex life? What does he look like naked? Is he big? I mean big, big, big, big, big, big... bigger then a hotdog, you know the ones you get at the store in cans? Not the super-size ones... I take another look at his crotch and I've changed my mind, it is most definitely the extent of a super-size hotdog. But what about the width? I wonder if he has a tape measure anywhere that I could use?

"Jesus Christ Marie! Exhale! You're turnin' blue!"

I'm turning blue? I... oh... I release the breath I was holding and gaze down at him. "Do you have a tape measure I can maybe borrow?"

"What the hell do you want with a..." He watches the mischievous smile appearing on my face and shakes his head. "I don't wanna know."

"Its nothing bad!" I cry, feeling rather offended. "I only wanted to measure... wait, where are your claws?" Okay, so I'm a little dense only just noticing that they seem to have disappeared, but hey, don't hate me, I've had a lot to deal with. "That's amazing." I tell him, rubbing his knuckles with my fingers. "I can't even see the glue." Do they actually use glue to stick pointed claws on to men's hands? I bet they don't use superglue or the hospitals would be littered with weirdos.

"They ain't fake, they're real." Logan sighs, his hazel eyes reluctantly meeting mine. "They've been bonded with adamantium."

If those claws are real then that means that... Oh, bless him, why does he look like I have just gone homicidal on his cute ass, murdered his best friend and slaughtered his kitten? "When they come out does it hurt?" I whisper, continuing to caress his knuckles.

I spot a glimmer of hope in his eyes and a shadow of a smirk. "Every time." He replies, and for some reason this scene is ever so familiar. Before I get a chance to ask Logan about it, he lets go of my hand and stands up.

"Are you okay?" I question him softly.

"I'm fine, just rememberin' a girl I met once." The smirk has long since gone and he has returned to scowling. "How about we hit the road? I wanna take you somewhere."

I nod my head and trail after him, watching his ass the entire time. I cannot believe that I thought that this was a dominatrix school, these people obviously don't have the stamina or the attitude to make it in the world of leather, latex and domination. I probably shouldn't be leaving with a complete strange either... he's not a stranger though is he? His name is Logan, he owns a penis that is larger then a super-sized hotdog, a set of pretty impressive claws and an ass that any male model would be proud to call their own. He's also mine and that gives me goosebumps, I might not understand why, but it does. I'm all goose-pimply and I'm debating whether he will let me take a quick glimpse at his package, forget about a glimpse... I want to scrutinize it, inspect it... No, no, I want to set up a twenty four hour surveillance team to capture every moment of his penis's day. Fuck the surveillance team, I wonder if I can buy a spy camera down town?


	28. Happiness Is A Warm Gun

_T**hank you for reviewing guys, it means a lot that you're loving this fic :) A huge thanks especially too Mcloving Grey's, wolverette, BritBabe, Starlight2Twilight, I'mYourChemicalRomance, alexmonalisa, Pinkdrama, ElizaV, Cherish, xxBluedazexx, Glykera, Soon2Bme, onelife01 and comic-cake :)**_

_**Warning: The following chapter includes a Logan with a mouth that would make a sailor blush, you have been warned ;)**_

_**And please review if you read, firstly its polite and secondly, that is what keeps me writing. Feedback and reviews are the new drugs and booze..... Also, I have to add that even though I am not a Taylor Swift fan... TEAM TAYLOR!!!! Anyway, on with the show ;)**_

**Happiness Is A Warm Gun**

_And when I feel my finger on your trigger, Ooooooooh Oh yeah!_

_The Beatles – Happiness Is A Warm Gun_

"So, we live in a mutant school then?" I can't say that I am that fussed about that fact, but I have been in a rather pensive mood since we have left the mansion. There hasn't been a word uttered between us in over five point seven seconds and I need to jump start this conversation.

"Yeah." I am met with a sullen and rather snappish grunt. I'm beginning to think that this is a regular occurrence in our relationship, me being the extremely articulate and chatty one and Logan grunting every other minute, in a gruff and gnarly manner.

"Not a dominatrix school then?"

"No."

Hmm, another grunt, albeit a sexy grunt but a grunt never the less.

"And not a movie set?" I question, hoping for more then a one worded, poor excuse for an answer.

"Hell no." Logan scoffs dismissively, his eyes flickering from the road ahead, over to me for a split second.

Better, better, close but no top hat, waistcoat, pantaloons or cigar for Marie... Great, I think I am developing an obsession for English clothing circa 1795 – 1825... Mmm, Mr. Darcy anyone?

Mr. Darcy didn't smoke a cigar though, so why am I day dreaming about a cigar smoking guy?

I glance out of the car window, watching the enormous, decadent and slightly self indulgent mansions disappear, as we head to fuck knows where. Fine, if that is the way he wants to play it, then I'm game. He seems to be a man's man, one that might respond to a different, subtle change in questioning.

I tuck a loose strand of platinum blond hair behind my ear and pout, I pout for all the American women out there who are ignored, ignored day after day, night after night by their men. I'm pouting for all the hard working ladies out there, whatever nationality you are, whatever skin colour you have, whatever language you speak. We will unite against our grunting, unshaven, leather jacket wearing, eyebrow quirking mutant males... These males that we allow into our mundane lives, the males that turn our once humdrum lives upside down and show us that we can be more then mere sex objects... That we can hold down nine to five jobs, we can get paid the same wage as these high flying, suit wearing, brief case carrying assholes and we do matter, we matter more then men... women are not the bane of man, we are not a thorn in their side, we are the reason that the human and mutant race has yet to die out... We don't cry over spilt milk, we don't cry for our mommy's when we have a head cold or the flu, we can go clothes shopping during the January sales and we don't complain once and we as strong independent and worldly women can manipulate any man within seconds because we are the superior sex!

Ahem, I went on a little tangent there, please excuse me. Now where was I?

Oh yes, a subtle change in direction. "SEX!" Or not.

The hotness himself, actually has the nerve to look... Well, imagine you are taking a casual, leisurely stroll up a mountain, as you do. You're thoroughly enjoying your walk, sipping your bottle of water, gazing at the amazing scenery and then you come across a mountain lion, and this wild cat does not appear to be happy with your presence on his mountain. Now, clear your mind and picture the look on your face... Good, that is exactly how Logan looks. I may as well be a mountain lion, with my teethed bared, legs crossed beside him in his air conditioned, roomy car.

I'm wearing clothes though, mountain lions don't wear clothes and no, I am not about to start stripping. Mama didn't raise no... um stripper? I don't think she did anyway, can you imagine any mother raising her daughter to become a stripper?

"Logan close your mouth or you'll catch flies." I inform my alarmed partner in... Crime? Sexual exploits? I know he is not my partner in thought provoking conversations. "You know I think I remember something."

"About sex?" He questions me, pulling to a sudden stop at the side of the road.

"What? No, jeez you men have such a one track mind. I was thinking of the rhyme, you know about the woman who swallowed a fly, then a spider, perhaps she'll die." I muse, lost in thought and observing his jaw twitch.

He mumbles incoherently under his breath and switches the ignition on, revving the engine. "Nothin's gonna kill me darlin', I've gotta healin' factor."

"A healing factor?" I repeat, while he nods in my direction then flips the bird at an impatient driver. "How's that working for you so far?"

"Fuckin' dick!" Logan barks as he avoids crashing into another car. "Fuckin' lard assed American fuckin' wannabe drag racers, fuckin' bitches are gonna run us off the fuckin' road! Impatient fuckin' bastards the whole lot of them! Goddammit!"

I see his healing factor really does nothing for his temper. I definitely sense a touch of road rage, oh yeah, road rage vibes are coming my way, he's punching the steering wheel now.

Uh, I need to think of a way to calm him down, before he bursts that vein in his forehead. The one that is pulsating at a disturbing rate. Ooh I know, I unbuckle my seat belt and flex my fingers, popping each knuckle. "We've had sex right?"

"Yeah... God damn, mother fuckin', cock suckin' pansy ass, I'm gonna gut him!"

I'll never understand why men get so infuriated when someone over takes them? I mean that is why God made a highway with three lanes. I carefully lean over, avoiding his questioning gaze and prop my elbows up on his thigh.

"Did you say that you had metal throughout your body?"

"Yeah." He replies suspiciously, gaining speed on the errant driver, that dared overtake the Wolverine.

"Throughout your entire body?" I ask again. I need to be sure before I perform this modest, humble and selfless act for the sake of all the crazy scientists out there who never leave their science labs, full of scientific things.

"Marie...." Logan gasps when I cup his crotch, and give it an acceptable squeeze.

"You lied to me." I scold, now unzipping his cute Levi jeans and wriggling a hand through the exposed hole. "These are not balls of steel! That means that the metal doesn't run through your entire body. You've based our whole relationship on a lie."

"Jesus Christ, sit the fuck down and take your fuckin' hand with you!" He rasps, eyes bulging and that's not the only body part that is beginning to bulge.

"Why? Don't you like it big fella?"

"SHIT!"

********

"I'm so sorry Logan." I say for the one hundredth time, chancing a look at his darkening face. "I really am sorry, I had no idea that would happen."

He refuses to answer me and tightens his hold around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning sheer white. "But if you hadn't have got so excited, you wouldn't have driven through that red light."

"You sayin' that was my damn fault?" Logan demands, his icy glare making me squirm.

"Well, you're the one that crashed into that car." I reason with him. Okay, so there is no reasoning going on here, I'm only pointing out his faults and he has a lot, this could take me all day. "And that man wasn't angry with me, if my memory serves me right... Which it really hasn't been doing lately... He was yelling at you, not me. Don't you go pointing fingers because there is always three pointing right back at you."

He arches a sexy, bushy eyebrow and growls. "He was drivin' a fuckin' merc dammit! You any idea how much they cost Marie!?"

I frown at him and cross my arms. "There is no need to raise your voice." I tell him calmly. "And anyway, you can count yourself lucky, you got to meet the mayor. Not a lot of people can say that you know."

"He's takin' me to court for wreckin' his car! That ain't nothin' to boast about!"

"You know with an attitude like yours, I would be surprised if you have any friends to boast to." I respond cruelly. "So keep that ego of yours in check or I'm out of here!"

"You wanna go? Then go!"

Logan pulls the ever so slightly dented car over onto a side street, and glares at me. I think he is challenging me, well he isn't going to win this war of words. No way in hell am I going to let him cruise to victory in his leather jacket, denim and puddle of semen... Oh no, I am out of here, he can kiss my ass goodbye.

I throw the door open and meet his blazing stare. "Fine, you can come and find me when you grow a fucking pair!" I screech, causing the birds in the nearby tree to take flight. I slam the door closed and storm off around the corner. Cursing him to a million painful deaths, no not deaths, that would be cruel. I don't even really know him that well yet, do I? That can wait until later, I curse him to a day in a health spa instead, oh yes, I bet he would hate that.

Now where can I find the lonely hearts club band?


	29. Real Love

_**Thanks to the following lovely people that reviewed and made my day/week: I'mYourChemicalRomance, Cherish, Soon2Bme, Pink drama, Bluedaze, wolverette, Starlight2Twilight, ElizaV, Glykera, Onelife01, McLovings Grey, alexmonalisa, Comic-Cake, bologna121, dancinqt21 and Browneyeddevil :) Also a quick thanks to those that have added this fic to their favourites.**_

_**Apologies for how long this has taken for me to write and post, but hopefully this is worth the wait :P And to those who are up for the kidnapping plot, does anyone know how to crack open a safe? Its really important, a matter of life or death... Just ask Browneye****ddevil LM****AO**_

**Real Love**

_All my little plans and schemes  
Lost like some forgotten dream  
Seems like all I really was doing  
Was waiting for you_

New York city is polluted, over populated and it stinks and no, I don't mean literally. Although my feet are slipping and sliding in my leather strapped gladiator style sandals, and you're lucky that I haven't sent you a scratch and sniff card because whoa... My feet are sweating more then Fat Bastard in a hot tub in Kuwait.

Why didn't I wear socks?

I shudder at that thought even though the sun is blazing high in the sky. White ankle socks and a pair of sandals? I would look like an English guy on summer vacation and we all know that they don't dress for Queen and country. 'Off with their heads' or 'I am not amused' springs to mind.

Oh my God, these fucking sweaty shoes!

I stop walking and remove my sandals, hopping from foot to foot and trying to avoid falling on my ass. Often people make assumptions within the first five seconds of meeting you, and what would my ass hitting a dirty side walk tell them? That I'm a bat shit crazy, drugged up to the eyeballs and I probably escaped from the crazy farm... Where bat shit crazy people are more then welcome, I bet they're welcomed with open arms and a straitjacket or ten.

Why is my brain always floating and sailing away from me into the clouds? My thoughts are sporadic and I ramble. Does that bother you at all? No sooner do I make a point, then I'm wandering onto another ridiculous...

My feet can breathe, Hallelujah, praise the lord!

Hopefully my clean, bare and virgin feet can evade the dog shit, broken glass, assorted drug paraphernalia, cigarette buts and any other unforeseen danger on the mean streets of NYC.

I'm calling them virgin feet because I have just popped my walking – with – bare – feet – through – the – unhygienic – streets – of – New – York cherry. Wait a minute, that means that they are no longer virgins... Oh, this is the proudest day of my life, I could cry.

Now, where to go in a large city, there has to be somewhere I can go. I have no cash, I'm walking barefoot and I must look like Eliza Dolittle before the makeover, can I find a Professor Henry Higgins? An English Professor that is not a phony?

I really would make a delightful and quaint flower girl, there 's an idea, an English flower girl that just so happens to be American. Stop shaking your head at me, Audrey Hepburn wasn't even English and she didn't even sing in the damn part.

"Lady!? Watch where ya walking!"

He's certainly not Henry Higgins, he is too fat for a start and the guy is driving a yellow cab. You would never find a yellow cab in Edwardian London.

I reply to the mouthy man in the politest way possible. "Go to hell!"

Did this ever happen to the Beatles? Oh, I bet that no-one ever tried to run down John, Paul, George and Ringo when they were walking across a level crossing.

So I keep walking, walking with my head held high, my sandals in my hand and the cab driver honking his horn... New Yorkers can be awfully obnoxious at times.

*******

_Meanwhile a drinking, smoking and brooding mutant is lost in his thoughts. These thoughts are coming from the mind of a feral yet handsome man, viewer discretion is advised..._

"You look like you've just lost your best friend." The bartender says, causing my inner rage to spike to new found heights. What gives this asshole the right to open his trap?

"Give me another." I growl and no I don't say please. Wolverine sure as hell doesn't remember his manners when surrounded by morons. I chomp on my cigar and slide the empty glass over to him.

"Whatever gets you through the pain buddy." He sighs, handing me a glass of amber liquid and its southern whiskey. Dammit, those thoughts are back. I thought I had buried them under two bottles of whiskey, six beers and a handful of stale peanuts.

I'm getting soft, I am soft... I blame the women, its always a females fault. Why do they have to be so difficult? Why does Marie have to be so God damn difficult? Is it her time of the month or something? Nah, I would have smelt the blood. She's just a typical woman and she wants to shout. Its as funny as hell when she's laying into someone else, my girl scares people shitless but it ain't so funny when she's yelling at me.

I can't do anything right, Jesus Christ she's changed over the years and I kind of like it, her anger turns me on. She knows what she wants... Well she did before she went and cracked her damn head. One minute Marie's friendly and up for anything, then she's screaming at me and throwing things. That fucking glass she chucked at me hurt, not that I would ever admit that to anyone...

I'm a cage fighting bad ass dammit!

"Another and make it a double." I demand, slamming down the empty glass.

Maybe I'm nothing more then an animal? Me and Sabretooth, we share the same blood and we're both no good. We shouldn't be around normal folk and things start to get complicated when feelings are involved.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm damn sure." What is this guy, a comedian? Of course I'm sure, I never make a joke when liquor is involved. Come to think of it, I ain't got much of a sense of humour these days, so I sure as hell wouldn't be wasting it here.

Another shot of whiskey and I'm hungry for more, a guy could get used to this, sitting in a bar without a care in the word.

Fuck, I ain't care free though. I need to think rationally; My past ain't a puzzle any more, however fucked up it is its my past. Even if I'm related to an asshole like Victor creed, those files of Stryker's don't lie and it was all there in black and white. Death, destruction and revenge... But, the past is in the past, that's what Chuck said and I have Marie now.

Marie, I love her and I ain't running for the hills. The girl gives a fucking great hand-job and she's mine, my girl can satisfy me and I sure as hell can keep her satisfied alright.

Hey, I've got the Midas touch and she loves it...

Why the fuck am I boasting about finger fucking my girl? It ain't none of your damn business, you bastards are fishing for information. I know your game, so back of before things get nasty!

This is bullshit... Did I just see a Bumble bee and an Octopus walk past the grimy bar window? Jesus Christ, I think I've seen everything now.

*******

_Back with the young lady with an affinity for trouble and strife, even when she is sober minefields litter her path. She can currently be found taking refuge in a shady area beside an apartment building..._

It's so hot, the sun has most definitely got his hat on for us all today. I don't have a hat and my scalp is sun-burnt, itchy and damn right unpleasant. Which is why I'm hanging around here, hiding from the summer sun, its out to get me and burn every inch of my skin, which will eventually lead to skin cancer... Lucky me.

I poke my nose a few times and sneeze with more ferocity then one of the seven dwarfs. What was his name again? Don't tell me I have a sun-burnt nose to match my burning scalp and head injury. I have been in the wars and have not come through it unscathed, how annoying!

Marching to the nearest clean window, I stand on my tiptoes and gaze at my reflection. Its quite hard to see, but I'm guessing that I don't do anything by halves and my nose felt left out.

Another day in the life of Marie/Darlin'/Rogue... Have I missed any other random name out?

Narrowing my eyes and squinting through the window, I rest my forehead on the cool pane of glass and wrinkle my brow. I could have sworn that something just moved in there.

I painstakingly study every part of the kitchen, glancing at the high end finishes and the humungous sized stainless still double oven with extractor fan. Oh my God, how on earth did I miss that!?

No, not the immaculately clean and spotless oven you silly readers. I mean that, the couple in there, they're um... on the kitchen table.

"What do you think you're doing Ma'am?" A stern voice interrupts my shock at witnessing such a erotic act. Imagine doing that on the kitchen table and then inviting your parents around to eat.

I step away from the window and plaster an innocent looking smile on my face. Oh crap, its a cop. He's going to think that I'm a pervert and I'm really a misunderstood girl, with a head injury and sunburn from hell itself.

"Me?" I say, walking closer to him and taking in his beauty. Wow, look at those muscles, they are certainly not rippling butter fat. "Nothing, nothing at all."

Shit, now I've made myself sound guilty. The cop side steps me and marches to the window, I watch his butt and consider flirting my way out of this situation. It could work, I'm a woman of many talents. "Your name and date of birth." Mr. Cop with a hard on demands, dragging his eyes away from the window.

"We've only just met and I don't give personal information to strangers." I reply, fighting the urge to avoid the inevitable. I dying to tell him what is on my mind but it would be treated as a rude, vulgar and unnecessary point to make. "You should be thanking me, you won't have to spend hours on the Internet tonight searching for porn while the wife is asleep."

"I don't understand." The frowning cop responds and what a shame, he's beautiful but he's as thick as two short planks.

I point to his crotch and smirk. "Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Oh, I just had to say that didn't I? Roll on the hand cuffs, police car and the jail cell that reeks of piss.

The cop blinks, gawks at his crotch area and has the sense to blush, clearly embarrassed by his body's reaction.

Before he has the chance to either arrest me or apologize, the window opens and a red faced, large nosed man bellows at the both of us. "What the hell! Have you two guys been watching me and the wife!?"

"The girl here was sir, but I've put a stop to it now."

"I wasn't watching them!" I cry indignantly, throwing my hands in the air and cursing the day I was born. "I might be crazy, I might even like sex a little too much. Yet, nothing and I mean nothing would make me watch two overly excited pigs going at it like rabbits... Rabbits pumped full of drugs and rocking back and forth on the kitchen table!"

"I'm not on drugs lady."

"Your pupils tell me that you're lying and the cop here is the one that was watching you. Watching you and getting sexually excited, see, take a look at his bulging and cocked pistol."

With both men now eyeing me as a potential victim of a rather nasty homicide, I back slowly away wishing that Logan was here and then I fucking run...

*******

_Once again we approach Logan the badass of the mansion, he is now knocking back Canadian beer , after spending the best part of an hour grumbling about the inability of the Americans to create a good tasting beverage. He is finally satisfied..._

Hell, I'm happy that I'm Canadian. Ain't it great to be born in a country that don't make pansy ass tasting beer. Make no bones about it, I'm a fucking proud Canuck. Its just a shame that my home country is never gonna be proud of me.

I've got a shot at happiness with Marie, she's the only girl for me. When I was up north, I thought of her everyday... as mushy as it sounds for the Wolverine to admit to that, I did. I stayed faithful and kept my dick to myself, growled at any woman that tried to pick me up and thought of my Marie in her underwear when the nights got lonely.

I had to screw everything up when I dumped her, but after finding out my past, I was scared. Scared that a fucked up guy like me would drag her cute ass into danger. I couldn't live with myself if she ever got hurt because of me.

Fuck, she did get hurt because of me!

Another guy enters the scene and sits on the stool beside me. He smells of cigarettes, breath mints and air freshener, just in case you folks at home gave a damn.

"I'll have the usual Tony and make it a double." The fat fucker sighs.

"Bad day at the office?" Tony the bar tender jokes, pouring him a gin and tonic.

"I drive a cab, I don't know the meanin' of happiness, ask my wife."

He greedily snatches the glass from Tony, and gulps down his drink. Even causing me to arch an eyebrow in surprise at his eagerness.

"Wanna talk about it?" Tony asks him, not that I give two shits. I'm not eavesdropping on purpose, I can't help it.

"Yeah, why not. First some young guy spews in the back seat." That's why he stinks of air freshener then, another mystery solved. "Then I nearly run over some crazy girl, she was just standin' on the level crossin." He complains.

"Was she a looker?"

"Yeah, too bad she weren't all there, its always the pretty ones. I was on my way here and I saw her again, she's got a gorgeous set of tits on her."

"She showed you them?" The bar tender questions eagerly.

"No, she flashed them at a cop. You shoulda seen the guy, he tripped over his own feet."

Shit, that sounds like something Marie would do, but there's no way in hell that she would. My girls got more sense then that. Course she knows I'd ring her scrawny neck if she flashed those fucking bouncing, pert breasts of hers at anyone other then me.

"How'd you know that is was the same girl?"

I search my pocket for a cigar and lighter, I need a damn smoke, just thinking of her breasts is making me hard. Maybe I'll have another drink too.

"She had these white stripes in the front of her hair." The cab driver says, describing a girl close to my heart down to a tee and I drop the cigar I was about to light.

"GOD FUCKIN' DAMMIT!"


	30. Free As A Bird

**_Okay, I know I disappeared for ages and ages and ages... But, I'm back now (Don't all cheer at once! LOL) So much has happened over the past few weeks, not all has been great exactly. Yet here I am baring gifts, well another chapter that I hope you'll enjoy. _**

**_Since I've been away feeling sorry for myself, Stephen Gately died! How shocking was that!? He was my first celeb crush, back in the day before I had a thing for hairy clawed mutants ;) and when my musical taste was shocking... Yes, I was a BoyZone fan at one time :P Oh, and I started watching True Blood... I know, its about time. My mum accuses me of sitting there and watching porn though! LMFAO. Its not my fault if Jason has a tendency to be rather frisky! Anyway, I love the show. Did anyone see Anna Paquin on Graham Norton? She was so sweet :) _**

**_Thanks to all those that reviewed! Browneyeddevil, mcloving greys, pinkdrama, cherish, kinetically charmed (Congrats!), ElizaV, comic-cake, starlight2twilight, glykera, hollie, alexmonalisa, vicsters jar of dirt, dancinqt21, i love pun, blue daze, soon2bme, Wanda, shashocking and ashley. _**

_**Enjoy! :)**_

**Free As A Bird**

I flashed a cop, oh my God I flashed a cop. Oh my goodness, oh my gosh, Christ on a bike I flashed a cop. Good old Johnny law, The fuzz, Bacon, The flat footed coffee swilling donut munching G – man in this here city saw the girls. My breasts, fun bags, chesticles, hooters and air bags, both of them in an office of the laws face.

Me, a cop and my sweater cows. His shiny badge, cocked pistol and bulging hard on... A match made in jailbird heaven.

Hmm, do I detect a number one best selling single on the billboard charts?

Madonna, you had better watch your bony ass and put your vagina away; because you're too old and there's a new girl on the block now.

Does my life often reach the dizzy heights of ridiculousness? If so, I'm thinking that my brain is welcoming this break from the norm. Take for instance right now, yes this very second. I'm hiding in a bush. This cop is relentless in his pursuit, I'm no law breaker, just a citizen of this great country flipping the finger at the law. What's wrong with that? I'm sure you readers do this all the time, you're causally walking down the street and out come your devil's dumplings.

I'm barefoot too, I lost my gladiator sandals. They're over there somewhere, yeah over there... just behind the seething Logan and another apartment building, this city is full of apartment buildings. I wonder how much a friends style loft apartment would cost to rent? I know for a fact that Joey could never afford to live there and what about Phoebe!? I doubt the smelly cat song would help her pay the spiralling bills.

"Marie, get the hell outta there!"

Oh, Logan's here and boy does he look unhappy. "Marie!" Okay, someone didn't get their blow job this morning.

"Shh!" I hiss, glaring from the safety of my bush. I've got two bushes, hee hee. "I played with your meat Popsicle earlier and yeah, it was fun but I'm a little busy right now. Go find a cheap hooker if you want a repeat performance, avoid driving during the act this time. You don't want to rear end someone else, what a way to meet the mayor. Actually if you did have to rear end another poor unsuspecting victim can you make sure that its Brad or George. I have a thing for older guys, not too old though... as long as they have their own teeth, hair and other appendages I'm really not fussed."

He takes one long, hard look at my stubbornly defiant stance (As stubbornly defiant as I can be, on my hands and knees in a prickly bush) and sighs. "One."

"Except Mick Jagger, I thought I should clarify that. You can rear end any hot looking Hollywood heartthrob, rock star or actor. Just not the shrivelled up raison more commonly known as Mick Jagger or his band mates either." I shudder, shivering in the shadows. "Do you think all old English guys end up looking like him? I wonder if his summer sausage has withered away, decreased in size and diminished dramatically? What do you think?"

"Two."

"He still gets these women on his arm though, it must be the money. How much cash does a guy need to have for a girl to look past the size of his twig and berries?" I ramble on regardless of the situation and my uncomfortable hiding place.

Logan growls and takes a step closer to me, snapping me out of my Jagger haunted thoughts. "Three." He grunts, releasing another crackling growl. I bet his mother would be proud, her son growing up to become the growling heavyweight champion of the modern age. I can just see her face now when he receives his winners trophy and pretty little jewel encrusted crown... Well I could if I actually knew what um, Mrs. Wolverine looked like.

"Congratulations you can count to three. Was that all for my benefit?" I ask, sitting down and crossing my legs. "Don't pull that crap on me asshole, don't go all growly and count to whatever number your pea sized brain can accommodate. I'm no pushover."

"And you think I am?" He demands, moving faster then I could have ever imagined and trying to haul me out of the bush. "I'm sittin' in a damn bar and you know what I hear!?"

I'm hazarding a guess that he doesn't want to tell me a joke. You know, one of those 'An Englishman, an Irishman and a Scots man walk into a bar and the bartender says What is this a joke?' Okay, not one of the best. Its difficult to come up with an amazing joke, they're either not at all funny or they have been done to death.

Logan almost catches hold of my arm but I'm a fighter and no man will get the better of me. I back further away and smirk as he is reduced to crawling through the brambles. He can't stay silent though and is now cursing as if there is no tomorrow, he grinds his teeth when his jacket gets caught on a mischievous branch.

"Fuck!"

"I bet you wish that you had stayed out there." I tell him, watching him fight with a section of the bush. While he mutters obscenities and threats under his breath. I didn't invite him to join me under here, this bush is only made for one.

'Snikt'

His claws slide out and he attacks the bush with fury, hacking away until sunlight is present on my face and I have to squint. "Have you ever watched Edward Scissorhands?" I try not to giggle at my comparison but... I'm right aren't I? Logan and Edward both have the wacky hairstyle and claws, they also love to cut up shit.

No, Edward had scissors... Scissors, claws... Who would notice the difference?

"You find this funny?" Logan snarls, closing in on me. I can't take him seriously, he's still on his hands and knees. "I'm at the bar and some dick comes in ravin' about seein' you! Why the hell would you run down the street..."

"I needed the exercise." I offer as an explanation, interrupting him before he becomes too comfortable. I don't think I've ever met someone quite like Logan, its funny. Even when he's pissed off and that vein begins to throb... Throb, I know what else throbs.

"I ain't finished!" He yells, narrowing his eyes and crouching in front of me.

"Yes, you have." I reply, crushing my lips against his and delving my tongue deeper into his mouth. I remind myself over and over again not to bite down, drawing blood from his tongue cannot be considered cute or cuddly.

Don't bite down

Don't bite down

Don't bite down

It's not actually his tongue I want to bite, if you get my meaning. I'm all for acting coy and being subtle and demanding that he just whip out his beef bayonet wouldn't be doing me any favours. He might expect me to slobber all over it every day of the week. Can you imagine that? Having to kiss Logan's purple headed cobra good morning, good evening and good night seven days a week... thirty one times a month... except in February, when I will have to greet the ding a ling only twenty eight times. What would happen on a leap year?

Am I girl of structure and habit? I just don't know anymore. Would it upset me if I was only allowed to suck, lick, caress and fondle the D-train for...

"Hey." Logan grunts, cutting short my future plans. He smacks his lips together and arches his eyebrow. "You bit me."

"And how does that make you feel?" I question, wrapping my arms around his neck and gazing into his eyes.

"Do you know what happens to girls that go around bitin' people?" He replies, smirking and nibbling my ear lobe, his hands at the foot of my back.

"They're arrested. Biting, kicking, flashing and running from an officer is an arrestable offence." A very unwelcome voice horns in on our flirtatious acts in a pitiful bush. If I was feeling myself, I'm sure that I'd be mortified at being caught making out by the same cop I flashed. "Can both of you step out of the bush? It makes it pretty hard to do my job, if you're both hiding in there."

Logan sighs once again and is the first to crawl out, giving me a great view of his ass. "What's this all about?" He asks the cop, offering me his hand as I struggle to stand up on my aching feet. Running around New York in your bare feet should really be against the law, please don't try it at home. I'm going to spend the next year soaking in a steaming hot bubble bath, Logan can bring me hot cocoa and wash my back. I always knew he would come in handy, men were put on this planet for a reason and no it wasn't for D.I.Y.

"I've been chasing your lady friend here for four blocks."

"I'm surprised you lasted that long. Dunkin donuts has a three for one special." I scoff, leaning against Logan and rubbing the bottom of my sore foot.

"Was that a cop joke?" Our friendly neighbourhood officer demands, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest. He must have seen that in a movie.

"No, this is a cop joke. A guy was flying to New York and decided to chat to the man sitting next to him. 'I've got a great policeman joke. Would you like to hear it?' He asked. 'I should let you know first, I'm a cop.' The man replied. 'That's okay, I'll tell it real slow'." I finish, smiling a toothy grin and looking at my audience. "Get it, the guy was going to tell the joke really slow because cop's are... um, maybe you would like to hear another. Oh, I know! How many cops does it take to change a light bulb? Any ideas?" I glance at both Logan and the cop, who both shake their heads and blink. "Just one, but he's never around when you need him. He's probably chasing an innocent girl around the city instead of arresting the real criminals." I add for good measure.

"You ran away, kicked me in the shin and lifted your shirt..." He drools, his eyes lighting up and gleaming. "I saw your..."

"He only saw my Lewinski's Logan. How would he act if he spotted my bearded oyster?"

Logan growls (Wolverine is on a growling roll today) licks his lips at me and glares at the humourless cop. "Quit lookin' at her bub."

"I'm not looking at her bub! I can't even see it." The cop splutters in defence, the spit flying in my eye. What is he trying to do? Blind me.

Both men begin to argue over the use of the word 'Bub' and that bores me almost to tears. I was about to reach for the stars or for Logan's power drill and now... now I'm watching him verbally abuse Johnny law and his roaming eyes. "SHE'S GOT A DAMN HEAD INJURY!"

As they continue with their petty war of words, butt heads and fight for their right to stare at my speed bumps I catch sight of a bumble bee and an octopus walking down the street. Glancing at Logan and noticing that he is far to busy to be disturbed, I scratch my head and walk away.

I've got to follow the bee and the octopus, my day wouldn't be complete without this. Trust me, I'm intrigued and that my dear readers is why you love me so. I now know who I am, I'm a free spirit and a bundle of damn fun. Who cares if I lack a number of vital memories, I'm still me... I, uh think.


	31. Beatles For Sale

_**Sorry, I really am sorry for buggering off for five months! Honestly I really am! I'm here now though (Don't all cheer at once) with an update that has taken me a few days to write and I hope that this makes up for my looooooong absence! LOL **_

_**I'm also in the process of updating my other Rogan fics, I posted a new Rogan one-shot the other week, there's a new Rogan challenge and I'm even writing a Doctor Who fic :) I'm a busy little bee ;) And guess who makes another appearance in this chapter? LMAO **_

_**I've once again read all my lovely review and there are so many of them! This chapter is dedicated to every one of those reviewers: 2angelwings, ShaShocking, wolverette, Browneyeddevil, Cherish, Glykera, bologna121, Comic-cake, pinkdrama, FanfromNYC (even if you're losing the love, I salute you still LOL) Allmybrokendreams, alexmonalisa, xxblue-dazexx, Soon2Bme, Leaf, Karmagirl880618, Tari, Starlight2twilight, Ashley, dancingt21, LM3795, RagamuffinSundrop, darkangelgrl22567 and pepper-maroon. **_

_**Whew, and now I present the new chapter, so please enjoy with my compliments :P**_

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**Beatles For Sale**

One hundred and twenty three steps later and I'm slumped against a brick wall, watching all the hustle and bustle that is chocking me like thick smog. Everybody is so busy, rushing around from place to place, they're like ants scurrying back to their nest with a pair of Jimmy Choo's or a pink diamond encrusted dildo. I just appear to have ants in my pants, I can't keep still and I itch.

The itching has returned with a vengeance and my honey pot must be crawling with fire ants. Its fucking itching and I'm not impressed.

Maybe I should ask one of the passers by to take a look at my honey pot for me? I'm sure that they won't mind, and it's better to be safe then sorry. Those pesky ants have no right to be trespassing in my panties, and building a nest, that's Logan's job!

Great, I look up and I'm seeing hollering, fuzzy and cherry coloured animals. Well, one cherry coloured octopus and a maroon flavoured bumble bee with florescent green stripes. They're both across the street waving at someone, waving and shouting... I think they're saying "Marie, Whooooo. Marie woooooo hoooooo hoooooooo."

Wait a minute, the octopus and the bumble bee are hollering at me!

I mean my name is Marie and I'm not a dominatrix, so that means that I can wave back without being labelled extremely unprofessional. I'm waving, I really am waving, waving my arms in the air like I just don't care and jumping up and down on the spot. And I don't look ridiculous in the slightest, people are only staring because they are jealous... They know that I got to meet the Mayor earlier today because of a hand job gone wrong.

The bumble bee and the octopus are walking over. Oh, I feel so privileged. "I thought that was you girlie. I've just been in the store and I really was sad when I didn't see your smiling face."

"You were?" I gush and possibly blush at the man dressed as a bumble bee. "You've missed my face?"

"Of course. I was bringing pussy here to meet you." He replies pointing at the fluffy octopus. "I'm just glad that you've ditched the body guard for today. My neck hasn't been the same since."

"Is that why you're wearing the neck brace?"

"Yes, when that poor excuse for a human being threw me out of the shop I twisted my neck." The bumble bee cries causing his black rim horned glasses to shake, and patting his injured neck. "My doctor doesn't think I'll be able to go back to the day job ever again."

The poor guy, no wonder he's dressed so ridiculously, he's trying to over compensate. "What was your day job?" I whisper, stepping closer to him and offering him my hand in comfort.

"I was the number one peeping tom in my neighbourhood. Now Jerry from across the road has taken my place and its all that Logan's fault!" The man sobs, clutching my hand and shaking his free fist at the sky. "I haven't stolen a pair of panties from a clothes line in days! Have you any idea how that feels?"

"Um, no." I respond honestly and gaze at the octopus. "Pussy? A little help here."

"Pussy can't answer you, he's lost his voice."

"Did Logan do that too?" I ask gently, eyeing the silent Pussy and freeing my fingers from the tightening grip of the bee. "If he did, I can help you get revenge. I think Logan likes sex, he's always getting hard. You should have seen him when he sat on his bike, he was huge. I think he loves his bike, he probably has sex with it when no-ones looking."

"Your Logan hasn't met Pussy. Pussy is scared of women, he looses his voice when he meets one."

"Oh." I utter, leaning back against the wall. "Can I ask you two something?"

They both nod and I smile at them. "Why are you dressed like that? How do you know me? Can you take a look in my pants? And, what store are you talking about?"

Pussy almost looks worried, but his buzzing friend has a sickly sweet smile plastered across his ugly face. "Oh, I bet you've had too many drinks you naughty little minx! How else would you forget me? I have what my head doctor calls a fetish for bumble bees of all shapes and sizes. They turn me on, especially when they sting me. Pussy just has a thing for Ringo Starr, he wrote a song about an octopus and Pussy feels close to Ringo when he wears that suit. The sex store where you work is where we met, until your Pimp took a disliking to me. I would be honoured to look in your panties, but only if I can keep them afterwards."

My jaw drops to the floor and the hair on the back of my neck begins to stand on end. Even my vagina starts to tingle, itch and burn as the man of the hour, the guy who has unprotected sex with his bike and my supposed pimp stands in front of me.

"Where did you come from?" I question, my eyes darting around his form to gaze at my new friends. "Oh, it doesn't matter. You probably lit a rocket up your ass or something."

Logan turns his head slightly, a little out of breath and his eyes flicker to me. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I ran." He growls, raising an eyebrow at the guys dressed to impress. "I don't wanna know, just get the fuck outta here."

I tug at the sleeve of his leather jacket until he reluctantly turns his back on the men."Logan! Don't be so rude, they were only going to look into my panties and now that you've..."

'Snikt'

He really is a jealous Pimp, I'm allowed to meet and greet other people. I'm what you call a woman of the world, a lady with a thousand admirers and a vagina that can make any man quake in their boots... Especially the bumble bee man, he's shaking so much that his penis is shedding tears and his black bumble bee tights are now water logged with urine. Do bee's even have the correct plumbing to pee?

The few passers by that have actually noticed the tell tale signs of a mad man on the loose begin to back away. I would hazard a guess that there are more homicides in this city during rush hour then any other time period. People just don't seem to care who they're walking passed, even if there's a man growling like a rapid dog, baring his claws and doing a pretty damn good impression of a werewolf.

Speaking of Logan, he swings his hands around and attacks thin air. "You made them run away." I pout, slapping him on the arm and hoping that I have at least dented his masculinity.

His mouth opens, then snaps shut and he snarls to himself sheathing his claws. "Fuckin' hell!" He barks, rubbing his knuckles and facing poor little me.

"Don't take that tone with me." I demand, folding my arms and ignoring his steely glare. His steely glare and that sneaky hand of his that curls around my arm rather forcefully. "They told me I had a job! You never told me that."

"Oh yeah? And what else did they tell you!?"

"That you were my pimp, but that was only after I told them that you stuck your cock into the exhaust of your bike!" I shout, struggling is his grip as he drags me across the road, with a crowd of teenage school children pointing and laughing at him.

"Give me strength." He grumbles under his breath. "I ain't gonna kill her. I ain't gonna kill her."

Okay, I think I might have just pushed him to the brink of actual murder. I don't want to be a homicide statistic. If I have to die then please let me regain my memories first and if not then at least let me have post memory loss sex. Then I'll be happy to die, I would fucking welcome death but only after sex.

"Logan?" I whimper, trying to keep up with his long strides while he tries to out walk the teasing teens. "Don't kill me, okay? I'll make things right." Cocking my head to the side, I shout at the giggling teens; "He doesn't stick his Princess Sofia anywhere else but in my pink taco! He doesn't find motorcycles sexually attractive! I don't think he's a Pimp!"

"I'm not a God damn Pimp!" He yells, shaking me like a rag doll and issuing a series of threats that have the group of kids screaming for their parents.

"Oh, so you do find motorcycles sexually attractive then?" I mumble and snort with a tiny bit of amusement, only a tiny bit. " Wait, I was only joking!" I yelp, when he seizes both my arms and stuffs me into the nearest store. "Don't kill me with... Sex toys." That sentence really didn't have the right amount of... Oh look, a dildo!

My Pimp has brought me to a sex store, full to the rafters with every form of sexual torture you could ever imagine. There are big boxes for the big boys and small boxes for the small boys. This place is a gold mine, I love it and I never want to leave.

Mr. Big Pimpin' releases me from his grip and thrusts me further into the store. "We ain't leavin' until you get your memory back."

"Is this where I work?" I ask, twirling around with a dazzling smile on my face.

"Yeah." He grunts, leaning against the wall and avoiding eye contact with a big breasted woman.

"Marie, you're back!" Screeches the big breasted lady, with bleach blonde curls and a sparkly pink cowboy hat sitting upon her oversized head.

She rushes over to me and gathers me into a bone crushing hug, almost breaking two ribs in the process. "Do I know you?" I gasp, wheeze and choke, fighting for air.

Studying my face carefully the woman frowns at whatever she sees. "You still don't have your memories back?" She questions me worriedly. I shake my head and she glares in the direction of Logan. "Instead of fucking her brains out, why don't you fuck her brains back in pretty boy?"

Wolverine has the good sense to blush at the question and looks decidedly uncomfortable. "Marie's told me all about your sex life, so don't go acting all coy with me. She told me about that time you used your tongue to lick her clean. You did enjoy that didn't you?"

Oh, is the mad woman talking to me? I think I'm blushing too. "I... Um, well... That sounds like something I would enjoy." I mumble, now taking a leaf out of Logan's book and avoiding the two sets of eyes piercing right through to my soul. "He let me play with him earlier in the car but he had a little accident."

"Men always do. They don't have the stamina like us women." She announces breezily, marching behind the counter and producing a large cardboard cut out. "I'm having the store remodelled. Its going to have a new name and everything." She gushes, showing me the cut out.

"Is that...?"

"Yes! Isn't it just swell?"

I wouldn't have used those exact words. The lady walks closer and places the cardboard cut out inches from my nose. "Yeah, that's definitely John Lennon." I utter, looking at a blown up, life sized naked picture of the deceased musician.

"I got the idea from you. You were always playing those sixties classics and then last week in the bath I had my eureka moment... No, it isn't what you're thinking, you dirty filthy girl." She giggles, leaving me to wonder if she's been shovelling white powder by the truck load up her enormous nostrils. "Brett was too busy watching the game and refused to dip anything into the bubbles, let alone his little toe. I've told him time and time again, if you chose a bunch of pansy asses over my bootylicious backside, then I'm going to invite my mom to stay for the summer and he hates my mom. Anyway, we're going to overhaul this dump and its all thanks to you."

I actually feel sorry for this Brett, whoever the hell he is. Hmm, is it true that every poor person on this planet will one day gaze into the mirror where the realization that they have morphed into their parents will smack them right between the eyes? I hope not because I have the niggling suspicion that my parents are assholes.

"What does the text say at the bottom? The text next to the arrow pointing at his... um, his other head." I am so totally going to burn in hell for this, I can just feel it. The blonde, large nosed, possibly high woman with humongous funbags is going to say something completely ridiculous and possibly crude. But I have to ask, I can't take my eyes off of John Lennon's banana and its not everyday that you see a world famous guy with his penis whipped out for the world and its mother to see.

"It's an advertisement. Listen to this, you're going to love it." She squeals, her hamster cheeks burning red with excitement. "You _can _buy me love- Buy a vibrating penis ring today, your man will love you for it."

Oh my God, I really am going to go to hell for this. I'm going to be poked and prodded with smouldering shiny pitchforks for all of eternity. John Lennon will probably sit in the front row and cheer for more, I'll be nothing but a source of amusement for him. Oh, and he probably won't even be naked... Which is going to be a crying shame.

"And, uh... What's that part about?" I query somewhat stupidly, pointing at the formidable red letters adorning John Lennon's naked torso.

"Its a competition silly. The one hundredth customer to buy a cock ring wins an all expense trip to meet the legend that is John Lennon. Except he'll be wearing clothes at the time. He does live in New York right?"

I gaze at Logan and our eyes meet, and I silently ask him to help a girl out; but he only smirks and shrugs his shoulders. "There's a tiny problem with all of this." I tell Mrs. Giant Wopbopaloobops. "Only a small problem that I think we might struggle to overcome. John Lennon is dead, as in dead dead. He's brown bread, the guy is all dust and bones, he's no longer living. The guy's a ghost, he's a spirit, he's taken a hike and he won't be coming back. If we go through with this one of two things will happen. Either Yoko Ono will sue our asses or John Lennon will haunt our asses."

"He really is dead? Why didn't you tell me before!?" She demands hysterically, propping up bare ass naked Lennon in the window. "For someone with a head injury you sure do remember a lot. Pretty boy, here are the keys, you can lock up after you've finished. Just make sure that Marie is back to her normal self come Monday morning. She's my best worker, so everything in this store is at your disposal, just remember to clean the products before you put them back."

"Wait!" I yell at the lady, my head swimming with all kinds of questions and thoughts of Logan towering over me with a pink diamond encrusted dildo... Boy, do I have a wacky imagination. Who has ever heard of a pink diamond encrusted dildo? "What are you going to call the store?"

"All you need is sex." And without even a look in my direction, she hands Logan the keys and sweeps out of the door leaving us standing here alone in an empty store.

A very empty store; full of sex toys. Did I mention the sex toys?

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I slowly circle the room, feeling Logan's eyes burning into the back of my skull, no not my skull.. Its lower then that, definitely lower. His eyes are burning into the back of my ass.

He has long since locked the door and is busy juggling the set of keys from one hand to the other, probably out of boredom.

"Do you recognise anythin'?" He asks, breaking the wall of silence.

"No." I reply, picking up a poster and glancing at it with horror. "Who was that nutty woman?"

"Your boss."

That's just what I was dreading... wait a second, what the fuck is this? "This is blasphemy!" I shout, shaking the poster in my hands. "I'm not working here, there is no way that I'm working here."

He smiles, and puts the keys in his jacket pocket. "Not that it ain't good to hear that darlin' but you love this job."

"How can I work for a woman that is actively destroying the memory of the Beatles? She's selling them out! Look at this poster." I order, handing it over to him and scowling when he chuckles as he reads it. "It's not funny."

"It's funny."

I snatch the laminated poster back and raise my eyebrows as I re-read it eight times. I don't find this funny in the slightest, maybe I didn't only lose my memories when I hit my head, but my sense of humour too. "Lucy in the bar with herpes? Don't worry, buy one pack of condoms and get another one free. How the hell is that funny!? It's not funny Logan, this isn't funny."

Yet, he's still snorting with laughter. Didn't I just tell him that this wasn't funny?

"If you ever want to have sex again, then you'll stop laughing and tell me that this isn't funny."

Heh, that did the trick. He raises an eyebrow and watches me closely. "It's funny darlin' whether you like it or not." He growls, frowning at me and crossing his arms.

"Then I guess that it'll be just you and your hand tonight." I shoot back, storming further into the back of the store. "You can use the John Lennon cardboard cut out as your... How do you put it? Inspiration?"

I can't believe that that didn't work! How am I supposed to manipulate the guy if he doesn't even bat one of those beautiful eyelids of his when I withdraw his rights to insert his magic pencil into my wet, hungry sharpener. I think he might be the one with the actual head injury. Why can't he just act like other guys and think only about the unlimited refills from my machine of sexual torture... No, pleasure, I mean pleasure.

Wait, what if I don't pleasure him enough? What if I don't pleasure him at all? What if he would find more pleasure from one of these toys? Or worse, another motorcycle? I have to deal with this and deal with this I will... In my own unique way and I'll make sure that he'll never look at another motorcycle the same way again.

I hover around the back room and there's something about the changing rooms that seem familiar to me. The itching starts yet again and my heart rate jumps to an incredible speed. Something happened there, something almost beautiful and pleasure, there was pleasure. I pull the curtain back and step inside, I've been in here before. I was angry the last time, I had been hurt and then I felt like I was on fire. My body ached, but what for?

I know! It was the fire ants! They must have been playing up down there and I was trying to rid myself from their evil clutches. Yes, that was it.

I look down at my jeans, and just stare. It burns so much and I have this feeling that it was something that I did. This is somehow my fault, I did something and it fucking hurt.

No, it wasn't the fire ants. There was something else.

Spotting a piece of screwed up fabric on the ground, I bend down and reach for it. My fingers touch what appears to be satin, it's a bra.... Its a bra.... A bra, its my bra.

I quickly straighten myself up and stick my head down my top, coming face to face with my breasts. They're bruised and decorated with bite marks, Logan's teeth marks and its a beautiful sight.

It happened here! We nearly had sex in here, then I went back to the motel, mutilated myself with the waxing strips and hit my head on the sink. Fucking hell, I remember! I really do remember! It's all coming back to me... All of it. Oh my goodness, did I really think that we lived in a dominatrix school?

Ladies and gentlemen, Marie and her memories have been reunited. I may even be a little embarrassed over my behaviour... Okay, completely mortified over my behaviour, but I'm back in town and I'm very much in need of some tender loving care. So, keep those asses glued patiently to your seats because you ain't seen nothing yet.


	32. Why Don't We Do It In The Road

_**This is my favourite chapter so far because it was the easiest to write. It just flowed out of my fingertips and appeared on the screen. Well, that's how it felt anyway. **_

_**A very heartfelt thanks to my reviewers: pinkdrama, bologna121, alexmonalisa, pepper-maroon, cherish, lovingmama23, comic-cake, dancingt21, cuddlebear992.**_

_**This chapter is for all you guys!**_

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**Why Don't We Do It In The Road**

Oh, I could kiss my own reflection if I wasn't so mortified. I'm never going to live the last day or two down, I mean seriously... A dominatrix school? I mean I didn't even know what a dominatrix was until I started working here.

I stole a car! I crashed a car and I nearly made out with Johnny. I had brain damage, yes that explains it all. Why else would I try to lock lips with a pyromaniac when I had the worlds greatest lover at my disposal? Move over Don Juan, I know for a fact that Wolverine is packing some serious heat. He's seduced more hookers then a horny teen plagued with acne and daddy's credit card.

"Marie?"

Shit! Why is he still here? What does he want with me? I wonder if it's sexual? No, please don't start blushing. I've been involved in worse drunken situations then this... What about the time I sang the karaoke? Or when I insulted the size of Logan's little friend? Christ, there I go again.

It wasn't little. It's not little. It never has been little. And, it never will be little.

I snap the curtain closed and wait patiently for the blushing to subside. Why didn't I listen to Storm? She said that she knew a world renowned waxing genius that could tackle my overgrowth of womanly fuzz in minutes. Why do I always have to be so damn stubborn?

"Marie? You okay in there?" Logan asks me while I cower behind the changing room curtain in humiliation. How can I face him now? He caught me almost humping Pyro against a wall in a strip joint. Although we were still fully clothed, so maybe it didn't look quite so... Uh, sexual and wrong, so very wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I lie through clenched teeth, wishing that I would wake up at any moment and realize that this was all just a dream. "Everything is just fine and dandy."

"You sure?"

I gaze at my reflection and wrinkle my nose at the person staring back at me. She's fifty percent whore, twenty five percent idiot, ten percent whimsical and the other fifteen percent you ask?

Well, I'm head over heels in love with Logan but the gushy, lovey-dovey, sentimental Marie is quickly being replaced by a deep seated rage.

"You bastard!" I cry furiously, flying through the velvet curtain and coming face to face with a rather bewildered mutant.

"Huh?" He answers, calmly blinking at my sudden rage and dropping the 'Lucy in the bar with herpes' poster to the floor.

Clenching my fists and standing on to my tip toes like the bad ass ballerina I'm not, I try my damned hardest to look intimidating and when that fails to work, a string of insults march out of my mouth. "Do you know what Logan? If you're going to act like a dick, why don't you wear a condom on your head? That way, you'll at least look like one and I can finally get to see what one really looks like!"

An arched eyebrow and a half amused snort attempt to put me back into my place. "No, don't you even try and wriggle your way out of this. I can only put up with so much and I overcame the issue I had with the size of your..."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Don't interrupt me! I decided that I didn't have to ask Hank if I could borrow a microscope. Yes, a microscope!" I shout, waving my arms in the air. "He has lots of them, doctor's like microscopes and...What are you grinning at?"

Logan steps towards me, taking his hands out of his pockets and smirks. "You've got your memory back." He says, without a hint of what I would describe as excitement or relief. Well, it's nice to know that I'm a valued member of the X-men.

"What makes you say that?" I counter with a shot of Oscar winning ignorance.

Taking another confident step towards me, his hand hovers inches from my face and he gently brushes my wayward hair behind my ears. "I know you."

Okay, maybe he is secretly pleased, only slightly pleased. But, am I pleased?

Logan's stalking closer still, so close that our bodies are almost touching and the hair on the back of my neck is standing on end. "Do you?" I ask, my voice punctuated with a hoarseness that betrays my growing need for some down and dirty fun and lots of it.

The renowned sexiness of his smirk returns and he hooks his fingers around the waistband of my jeans, tugging me closer to him. "Yeah, I do." He whispers gruffly, his lips so close to my skin that his hot breath almost causes a build up of condensation on my neck and inner ear.

"I disagree." I whisper back, in what I believe to be a poor comeback.

The fight and fury fizzles away when he expertly unbuttons my jeans and pulls them down in seconds flat. The rolls of denim gather at my knees and I follow his gaze to my wholesome goodness, I'm not wearing any panties and he looks taken aback.

"I didn't do it for you, the waxing has played havoc with the skin down there."

"Yeah?" He replies, his eyes darkening while he licks his lips and flexes his fingers.

Watching his eyes cloud over in a haze of lust, I place a hand on my hip and raise an eyebrow at him. "Yeah. Now, is there a reason why you pulled my jeans down? Or have you developed more of a perverted personality while you've been away?"

Logan cocks his head to the side and smirks at my attitude. "Just thought I'd take a look before I fucked you good."

"Are you even going to take your jacket off?" I question, shuffling over to him and doing my very best not to fall flat on my face. I don't want to extinguish the mood with another head injury.

"No." He growls.

"Good." I respond, tracing my fingers over his battered leather jacket.

I open my mouth to let him know how much I appreciate his jacket, how much it has always meant to me and how honoured I am that he refuses to take off said leather jacket when we're going to make love (Can you feel the sarcasm in the air tonight?) When his strong arms are wrapped around my waist and I'm tackled to the floor.

Who said that romance was dead when you have a carpet burn the size of Mount Rushmore on your backside and thighs?

Jerking his Levi's down, Logan ascends the great dizzying height of what? Maybe an inch or two, when he mounts me (Remember what I said about Mount Rushmore? Well guess who feels like she's being scaled?) and pins me to the ground.

"Wait!" I shout, stretching my arm over to where the 'Lucy in the bar with herpes' poster in still lying, untouched and unloved.

Logan glances at me and lifts his bulky weight off of my body. "Don't you wanna do it?"

My fingertips touch the laminated poster with ease, now that Mr. Excessively- Beefy-Yet-blessed-With-A-Beautifully-Formed-When-Erect-Penis has moved his muscular lard ass.

Smiling at his almost pouting face, I roll back to him and slide the poster under my ass. "I always knew that it would come in handy someday. Just remember for next time Sugar, carpet burns aren't every girls thing."

"Maybe you ain't had the right teacher?" He announces climbing back onto me with the ease of a seasoned jockey getting back on a temperamental horse.

"Maybe I haven't." I admit sincerely, parting my lips to let our tongues meet. We taste each others mouths, are tongues raise hell as they frolic and cavort until we break away to catch our breaths. "Could you point me in the right direction to find one?"

"Just for that, I'm stayin' on top."

"You're always on top." I remind him, playfully writhing underneath him and hoping that he understands my carefully orchestrated hint.

He arches both brows and grins. "There somethin' you want darlin'?"

"No, nothing at all." I declare, with a heavy sigh, gazing at the polythene tiles on the ceiling. "I was just wondering what the time was?"

"Why? Is there somewhere you need to be?"

"I don't know, is there?"

"Dunno. But I know where I should be." Logan grunts and with the expertise of a magician with a very large hat and a heavy thrust that almost snaps my spine in two, he's inside of me and I'm beyond pleased.

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As Logan pulls out of me and frees his love muscle from the claustrophobic constraints of my hot pocket , I picture the newest sculpture to grace Mount Rushmore... Think about it; Wolverine in all his glory. People would rush there in their millions to witness such a glorious sight. And then, he truly would be 'big'. Between us, Logan has no such worries in that department but it sure is fun to tease him.

Talking of Logan, the man does heal after all, because while I'm still panting and puffing from our recent activity, he's already inspecting the bite marks on my breasts. "These had better be from me."

"Who else is barbaric enough to sink their teeth into Mickey and Minnie and actually enjoy it?" I challenge, forcefully pulling down my top much to his disappointment "And I didn't say that you could greet them, not yet anyway. You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Sighing heavily to himself, he reluctantly meets my eyes. "Its been a tirin' few days."

"Logan, you took off for three months, then dumped my ass. Don't you think that's kind of cruel?"

Apparently still comfortable resting his half naked, sculptured and toned body on top of mine, he soothingly strokes the side of my cheek. "You really wanna do this now?"

I nod my head and peck him on the lips. "Just talk to me." I plead, taking his hand in mine and leading it under my slinky emerald top. "Tell me what's going on in your head and you can have all the time you want with the girls."

Having the desired effect on him that I knew it would, he tweaks my nipple with relish and clambers off of me. "Fair enough." He grunts, buttoning his jeans and fixing his belt. "But not here."

Standing up, I realize that the 'Lucy in the bar with herpes' poster is rather embarrassingly struck to my bare ass cheeks. "It's a shame but I think we might have to bin this." I announce while peeling the poster free from the under curve of my thighs. "Its been well and truly soiled."

Another appearance of the 'Logan smirk' might just cause me to go weak at the knees, so I make myself respectable. I'm now fully clothed, minus the underwear that I was never wearing and I let Logan lead the way out of the store.

I don't know what's to come, and I can't tell you that Wolverine and myself will make it a daily ritual to have carpet burn sex but, I do know that the laminated poster in my hands is about to become well acquainted with a trash can.


	33. Fixing A Hole

_**This is another chapter that I've just completed. It contains subtle Yoko Ono Bashing - Consider yourselves warned! LOL Thanks to everyone that reviewed. **_

_**alexmonalisa - I forgot to mention last time that I love the film A Hard Days Night. In fact, I have it on DVD and might just watch it now. I find the word 'School' dirty. Don't mention that in my online presence ever again ;) I also find Coldplay slightly boring but I do like Fix You. Have you ever heard of The Beatles or Bon Jovi? PMSL!**_

_**Comic-cake - I'm happy that it came across that way. Personally I don't write certain scenes too graphically, I prefer to add the hint of humour to the scene instead. Hopefully the humour that I've slipped into this chapter doesn't become a distraction and fits perfectly. Fingers crossed!**_

_**Fla Doomsday- Seeing as you asked nicely... There is more to come. Just scroll down and start reading. LOL**_

_**dancingt21 - No, its not bad. I'd even forgotten and I'd written the damn thing!**_

_**Soon2Bme - I might be back but I think that you've already left on that extremely long trip of yours!? I'll be relaxing this Saturday watching Doctor Who. Just think about what you're missing! LOL Who needs to see Europe?**_

_**Cuddlebear992 - I wrote a longer chapter this time just for you. LOL**_

_**Masanya - I'm glad to hear that the humour doesn't feel too forced and it doesn't drown everything else. **_

**_Browneyeddevil - I really need to message you back! I'll get right onto it after I post this and before I kidnap Hugh Jackman ;) Have you learn to safe crack yet? I was expecting you to say that you were eating a banana but... Oh, well! I'm just happy to see that you've returned._**

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* * *

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**Fixing A Hole**

_I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in,_

_and stops my mind from wandering where it will go._

_-The Beatles of course!_

I'm sitting opposite Logan with a toothy, shamelessly wide grin lighting up my face. Being the cat that got the cream has its benefits and I've noted the forlorn, even envious looks that are being cast our way... Make that my way. A woman with all the class of a street walker and the unmistakable sound of a racing motor purring underneath her patent leather skirt fixes me with a look of pure hatred.

Her school girl attempt at intimidation immediately falls flat because being hated has never felt so good.

I might be a little slow at stumbling onto this startling conclusion but I have my excuses. Head injuries, heavy drinking sessions, a demanding job and having sex can really turn a girl's brain into a generous portion of scrambled egg. Seriously there's enough scrambled brain to feed the five thousand. They'll be drowning in leftovers for years to come. They might even have to buy a new refrigerator to deal with the onslaught of my scrambled brain a la mode.

Funnily enough, I can't see scrambled brain with a scoop of vanilla ice cream replacing the favoured choice of egg and bacon any time soon.

I'm letting my thoughts run away from me again aren't I?

The conclusion that's got me rambling on like an old man high on Viagra, sugar and several undetermined medications is that... I only mentioned Viagra because that's what I'd continuously take if I was a geriatric guy with the need of a little help to encourage the wrinkled veteran soldier to stand to attention.

Now that we've cleared up any misunderstandings, I can finally get this newly formed thought off of my chest. Every other woman that I've bumped into, passed by or exchanged dark looks with is attracted to Logan. They're not happy that he's officially off the market and that's why I don't feel in the least bit bothered about being hated. In the grander scale of things I'd rather have Logan's full weight pounding me relentlessly into the mattress then be liked by the entire female population

"Thanks for buying me the flip flops." I say rather lamely. I'm trying in vain to get the conversation started and its not one of my many talents. My talents consist of humiliating myself continuously, getting hammered and easily being able to persuade Wolverine into coming over to the kinky side.

"You lost your shoes." He states teasingly. "I was close to slippin' a disc if I carried you any further."

"I hope that you're not insinuating that I'm too fat to carry." I reply, playfully nudging him under the table with the sole of a purple rubber flip flop. "Because any vouchers, coupons or promises of a naughty nature will be rammed firmly down you throat. Mistress Marie doesn't redeem out of date pledges, agreements or obligations. She also thoroughly dislikes paper work,doesn't own a filing cabinet and likes the feel of adamantium crushing against her naked vulnerable body."

Logan snorts sharply and chews on his cigar. "I'm startin' to like the sound of this Mistress Marie. You think I can meet her sometime?"

"It's entirely possible."

Cocking his head to the side with a feral grin, he holds his half smoked cigar between his finger tips and takes a hungry gulp from his lukewarm beer. "Just name the time and place and I'll be there darlin'."

Smiling into my glass of water (Having decided to lay off the liquor for the time being) I idly wonder if we're ever going to have the talk that we've been deliberately avoiding for the past hour or so. "Logan, the sooner you get this over with the faster I'll be sitting in your lap topless."

The grin is quickly replaced with a frown. "You know the answers that I've been lookin' for all this time?" I nod my head silently encouraging him to continue. He takes a deep breath and rakes an uneasy hand through his pointed hair. It takes a certain type of person to be able to pull off a hairstyle like that. I don't think that I'd have the balls to try it. Actually, I don't have the balls full stop. "I found them."

I'm one hundred percent ball-less. I'd be proud to wear the T-shirt, have the bumper sticker, appear on Saturday night live to perform a comedy sketch and announce it live on Good Morning America . Marie D'Ancanto does not have the balls in this relationship, Logan does. They're the perfect shaped specimens and if you don't believe me I'll send you a glossy enormously sized poster of his most intimate parts for you to ogle over.

"Before you carry on, I feel the urge to tell you that I don't care what happened in your past. Even if you spent a great number of years shish kabobing fluffy kittens and cute little puppy dogs, I'll get over it eventually." I announce matter of factly. "But if I find out that you were actually behind the shooting of John Lennon you'll never see my blouse brothers ever again. I mean it, I don't make jokes about The Beatles. You know I worship them like Christians do with what's-his name."

Raising a terse eyebrow he gazes at me with a telling look. It's one of those glances that invites me to take a meaningful journey into his soul and gasp in wonder at the inner pain that he's been bottling up. Faster then the first time my body reached the ultimate climax under his experienced guidance, the shutters slam shut. "I wasn't trying to trivialize your past. I know that it's important too you but nothing short of a marriage proposal from a time travelling Paul McCartney is going to change my feelings."

Logan sighs heavily to himself and snuffs the cigar out on his inner palm. "What about bein' related to one of the meanest mother fuckers goin'?"

"Yoko Ono? But she's Japanese. Wait, you've been to Japan haven't you?"

"I meant one of the assholes that kidnapped you." He growls evenly.

My mind races through the likely candidates. "I hope that you're not trying to tell me that Magneto is somehow descended from your ass." His wordless stony faced reply tugs me roughly in another direction. "You better not have been swapping bodily fluid with Mystique. That women is one crazy blue bitch. I don't think it was that slimy toad." Again he doesn't reply, only sighs once more and lights another cigar. "But that only leaves... Oh."

Readily accepting my shock as disgust, Logan acting his usual stupid self stands to his feet and marches over to the bar leaving me to wallow in a stunned silence. He really needs to be congratulated on his utter failure to identify the difference between shock and repulsion. I thought that his mutation would have at least given him the basic tools to do that.

My eyes dart directly to Logan's ass while he leans against the bar. Its' the same denim clad ass that's currently being cupped by the woman with the patent skirt. Her engine will be changing from a gentle purr to a chugging string of chokes when I get hold of her because she's about to run out of gas permanently.

Before I've given the chance to introduce her to the newest form of cosmetic surgery. The kind that involves my fist connecting with her nose repeatedly. Logan forcefully removes her hand and they exchange fiery words. Taking that as my cue to intervene, I slide out of the booth and calmly walk over to the arguing pair. I'm not about to play the part of a jealous girlfriend, I happen to be above all that teenage pettiness.

"I suggest that you keep your hands to yourself." I hiss threateningly, pointing a finger in her haggard face. "Before those wrinkles of yours are joined by a black eye, a broken nose and a cut lip. Because my husband only lets me touch his hairy ass. Trust me lady, you have no idea who you're messing with."

I can't believe that I just uttered those words. I sounded like a deranged bunny boiler in the prime of her bunny boiling life. I'm sorely temped to ask her if she actually has a pet rabbit and a pot big enough to fit on her stove. She blinks at me, glares as Logan's hand comes to rest on my hip and turns on her heels.

Taking his bottle of beer from the scruffy bartender, my Wolverine (There's no doubt about it, I'm definitely a bunny boiler) heaves himself onto a rickety stool and pulls me to stand between his thighs. Facing him with a scowl, I snatch the beer from his fingers and let the tip of the bottle meet my pursed lips. "You certainly got all the looks in your family." I remark flippantly before taking a sip from his drink.

"You mean you don't care?" He asks incredulously, his hand inching closer to the seat of my pants.

"Didn't you throw him off the Statue of Liberty? That's not very brotherly..." I counter, my voice trailing off when he squeezes me on the curve of my upper thigh.

"He had my tags."

"Oh, well he deserved all he got then."

Smirking at my sarcasm, Logan removes his hand from the lower half of my body and focuses on his beer instead. "Mind handin' me my beer back?"

Relinquishing my hold on said beer, I allow him to pluck it free from my fingers. "Husband." He says gruffly his eyes staring at me thoughtfully. "You called me your husband."

"Only to annoy that slut." I reply, calling the bartender over.

"That the only reason why?"

Caught between melting into his arms or punching him in the face, I gawk openly at the feral mutant in front of me. "If you're trying to say what I think you're trying to say, then you're doing a pretty poor job."

I ignore the bartender until he slips away to serve another customer. Logan just lazily drinks his beer and seems more then content to sit there silently ingesting the entire supply of New York's beer stock.

"Logan." I splutter visibly shaken by his.. His... Well you heard him implying things about our relationship. "You can't say something about you know what and then sit there drinking."

"Just think about it." He replies narrowly avoiding my questioning gaze and clearing his throat. "Anyway, ain't it about time you and me head back to the mansion? I wanna make good on that promise of yours."

* * *

"Marie..." Logan growls breathlessly, his hands exploring underneath my top. "Do you have to do that now?"

We returned to the mansion ten minutes ago and wasted no time in retreating to our room. I was praying to the powers that be, silently pleading that I wouldn't walk into anyone. Guess what? It actually worked. I didn't see anyone at all and my scrambled brain couldn't be happier.

You didn't think that just because a horny feral mutant slammed the door closed, kicked off his boots, leapt onto the bed and demanded that I straddle his lap would cause me to forget about the scramble eggs did you?

You really disappoint me. I thought that you would have known me better then Logan by now.

His calloused hand sweeps over one of the twins, he shifts me roughly and directs my pert nipple towards the jaws of guaranteed satisfaction. One hand is resting on the foot of my back, guiding me closer to him still. His lips part and my mountain peak slips comfortably onto his tongue.

"It's important." I gasp the strain of the day melting away.

"And this ain't?" He demands, my pink thimble popping out the warmth of his mouth saturated with his saliva. Clenching his fingers around my long sleeved slinky top and tugging it over my head, he throws it to one side.

"Of course it is but what if next time I'm not so lucky? What if I don't remember anything? What if I don't even remember you? Imagine if I'm left thinking that this is a dominatrix school again? I might try and discipline the Professor with rope and a ruler!"

With a pen in my hand and a pad of paper in the other, I feel my resolve slipping. "I need to start keeping a diary. Every time you interrupt me with stupid questions I forget what I'm going to write! So far I've only got; Logan didn't even fully undress before he took me on the carpet of my work place. The zip on his jacket kept tickling my stomach every time he slammed his coat hanger into my wardrobe... "

Logan puts a finger to my lips effectively stopping my scrambled brain in it's tracks. "You need to quit worryin'." He firmly takes the notepad from my hand and it quickly joins my top on the floor. "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Then you'd better hurry." I whisper huskily in his ear. "You've only got another forty five minutes left with Thelma and Louise."

* * *

Dressed in a loose fitting white sun dress, I walk down the hallways with one purpose in my mind; I need to find Jubilee and talk to her. Logan didn't get to drive the beef bus to tuna town again today. I've decided to keep him on a tight leash until I can trust him fully again. Even with scrambled egg kicking up a stink in my cranium I still find it difficult to forgive him for breaking off our relationship.

He did however get to spend a further hour nipping, sucking, licking and dousing my dirty pillows in his drool. Lets just put it this way; If they had been on fire he would have successfully extinguished the flames and effectively treated the burns.

I'm refusing to let him see my 'Lick-me-please-me' until I'm satisfied that he's learnt his lesson. Even though he was trying to protect me from his past, I don't want him thinking that I'm fragile. I can handle the grittiness that comes with life.

Wolverine won't be parking his pink bus into my fur garage any time soon, that's for sure.

Talking of pink buses, I bump into a former one that was often iced over when it crawled through the cat flaps.

"My parents are getting a divorce." Bobby admits to me in a soft croak, staring at me frankly.

I blink a few times in confusion and then remember the dinner party a few months back. His parents left separately after I angrily announced that his Mom had been receiving more then cuts of meat from their local butcher. In fact she had been coming into close contact with his meat thermometer for well over a decade without her husband suspecting a thing.

I only knew because I accidentally put Ice Prick into a coma once. After that night I knew every intimate detail of his mind. There was not much going on in there to be honest. Except for a number of fantasies starring me and Jubilee... We mostly kissed and touched each other a lot.

Unfortunately for Bobby I also remember the comment he made about me. You must remember too, he opened his mouth and it was closely followed by Logan's fist. He still has the angry bruise underneath his eye you'll be pleased to know.

Stepping past him, I elegantly raise my foot off of the ground and firmly kick him in his third leg. "I'm sorry to hear that." I respond curtly as he drops to his knees with his eyes bulging and cups his hands around the cotton like material that's protecting his balls.

While I look down at his whimpering form Jubilee bursts out of her room. "Chica I've... What's wrong with Bobby?"

"I kicked him in the balls."

Her eyes twinkle, she grabs my hands and screams. "You'll never guess what's happened while you've been trying to find your marbles." She gushes paying no attention to Ice Man's continuing pleas for help.

I walk with Jubes to her door, Bobby slams his fists into the carpet blubbering and I take a deep breath. "No, me first. I've got to tell you something. I think Logan..."

"Mel asked me to marry him!"

My brain is now well and truly scrambled egg.


	34. Strawberry Fields Forever

**_I've spent the last few days with the Blues Brothers. Figuratively speaking I mean. They're my new obsession and I must have watched the first film at least one hundred times. It never fails to make me laugh with the ridiculousness of it all. Jake and Elwood Blues are Gods. They can sing, dance and make me laugh. _**

**_Thanks to everyone that has reviewed. I have no idea how many of you have actually read the last chapter because the story traffic still isn't working. Oh and I'm still trying to underline the chapter titles. That's another thing that this site doesn't like me doing. _**

_**RagamuffinSundrop - Yoko Ono never bothered me until I read cynthia Lennon's book. Now I'm team Cynthia all the way! I prefer Help too. I'm not that keen on Ringo but he's hilarious in that film. Its also very obvious that they're all thoroughly stoned! LOL**_

**_comic-cake - Poor Mr. comic-cake. Does he know, support and understand your obsession with all things Wolverine? _**

**_dancingt21 - I think Logan lacks a lot of things. Like manners, ugliness and not being real. That last one really brings me to tears. LOL _**

**_cuddlebear992 - Your poster is on its way you pervert! :P But you'll have to remove the mirror from your ceiling first. You're making me blush with all the lovely compliments. I'm happy to know that the humour isn't going down like a lead balloon. _**

**_xmngrl - I'd say 3 days! _**

**_BrownEyedDevil - I hereby announce that the both of us will be sneaking onto the Wolverine 2 set with rope, tape and handcuffs. Make sure that you have your passport handy because you never know when I might turn up at your door. Hopefully other members will join us along the way! _**

**_Starlight2twilight - I think the ff record has now officially been broken. Three cheers for me! Now where's the champagne? LOL_**

**_alexmonalisa - Keep listening to the Beatles tracks and I'll be happy. What are your favourites? Watch the Beatles film: Help! Its even funnier. Great to have another Hugh Jackman kidnapping allie. We can always share him. Afterwards we'll rip off his clothes and share them too. I'd like a little keepsake... Maybe his boxer shorts. That's if he wears any (Faints at prospect of Jackman going commando) _**

**_firewolf1918 - Yes, Logan is a God. Marie is too, judging from this chapter. LOL_**

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**Strawberry Fields Forever**

What is she thinking? I had better judgement then her when I had a head injury and tried to dry hump Pyro, dominate the indomitable, sketched a still portrait of a bald headed yogurt slinger and thought I was driving a yellow submarine.

"You can't marry a guy that you've only known for five minutes." I tell Jubilee, pacing back and forth in her room. "What are his prospects? How much money does he earn a year? Does he come from a good family?"

"You introduced me to him." She replies simply, flicking through yet another magazine. "You tell me."

"Jubilee this is serious. He might not even be able to afford your yearly magazine subscriptions."

That does the trick. Her mouth shuts with an audible snap and she stands shakily to her legs. "But I love my magazines. I can't lose them." She whines with an added pout. "You're right, we need to do something fast."

I glance at her suspiciously and take a step back. "Oh no. I'm only just recovering from my last ordeal. You're not getting me involved in this. I might not come back with a fully functioning brain this time."

"I didn't say it was only your help I needed Chica." Funnily enough there isn't anything scarier then a Jubilation Lee grin. Especially when its being directed solely at you.

* * *

"Professor you have to help!" Jubilee demands slapping her hand on his desk. "Don't you understand that I might lose my magazine subscriptions?"

Sighing like any other poor man that's ever been hounded on his day off, he gestures for us to take a seat. "I wish I could help ladies but..."

"No, no no. Stop right there. You're the great Charles Xavier."

"Jube's you make him sound like Houdini or something." I tell her with a smile. Turning my gaze on the Professor, I lean forward in my seat. "What if we bribed you?"

"What do you get a Professor that has more money then sense?" Jubilee asks me, biting her lower lip and furrowing her brow.

Sitting back in my seat, I glance around the room and try to find some inspiration. She's right. What do you get a guy that has everything? We certainly can't afford to buy him a new mansion. Maybe we could pay for his first visit to the hairdressers? He does have hair now after all. What about a prostitute that caters to his kinky side? No, I've got it! I really can be so dense sometimes.

"If you read Mel's mind and gather intelligence for us, I will personally let you pick any product from my work place for free." He sits there uncomfortably and a faint blush spreads to his cheeks. "I know that you have needs. Needs that need to be..."

"I understand your reluctance over this marriage but my mutation can't be bought." Xavier calmly announces over my brilliantly witty sentence. "I suggest you discuss your feelings with your fiancé and then go from there."

"And you call yourself a Professor?" Jubilee cries shrilly, the window panes rattling. "My girl's right you shouldn't be allowed to have sex..."

"Jube's do you have to go there again?" I complain, the heat now rising to my own cheeks.

"Your penis should be attached to one of those ball and chains. But with this kinky phase you seem to be working yourself through, you'd probably enjoy it!" And with that she marches out of the room and slams the door behind her leaving two very embarrassed individuals in her wake.

"I should go see if she's okay." I mumble, my eyes darting everywhere else but at the man in front of me.

"How's your head? Logan was extremely worried about you earlier." He says as if the past ten minutes haven't even happened. He probably wiped his own mind.

The Professor has needs. The Professor has kinky needs. The Professor wants to wear a ball and chain on his sixty four year old Jim Beam. The Professor has needs. The Professor has very kinky needs.

"My head's fine... Perfect even. Is that the time? Well I really need to go and do that very important thing." I run out of the fucking door before before he even has a chance to stop me.

* * *

"I wish you hadn't mentioned the Professor and sex together in the same sentence." I sigh to my best friend. "I can't get the thought out of my head now."

"Are you seeing pictures too?" Jubilee replies sounding a little too interested for my liking. "If you're not then you don't get my sympathy."

"I am now, thanks to you."

"Well sorry for asking."

"I'm feeling kind of bored." I groan, flopping down on to the couch.

"I've got the best idea ever Roguey." She declares clambering over me and racing to the door. "Come on!"

* * *

**An hour later... **

"Me and Mel humped like Schnauzers in a field yesterday."

"Well a banana was given to my monkey in the store earlier and Logan didn't even take off his jacket."

She slams her shot glass down and gawks at me. "That's pretty fucking hot."

Yes, so I'm drinking again. Lets call it a celebration of recapturing my marbles, coming to terms with the Professors needs and taking the time out of my busy schedule to talk about the finer things in life.

"Were there strawberries?" I respond, refilling both our glasses with tequila. I slide the bottle back to it's rightful place beside the many controls, buttons and leavers.

"Where?"

"In the field."

Jubilee scratches her nose and blinks at me. "I eat some strawberries before I left. Does that count?"

Shaking my head, I down the tequila shot, grimace at the taste and reach for the bottle again. "Do you really want to marry him?"

"Would you marry Logan if you had the chance?" She counters, waving her empty glass in my face.

I have to think about that before I can offer her an answer. I'm still not sure what to think about what happened in the bar earlier. I sometimes wish I had a man that would actually make sense when he opened his lips, didn't smoke when he was in bed and wouldn't hide my Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator out of pure jealousy.

"Why was there a bottle of tequila in here anyway?"

"Storm hides her booze stash in here."

"Storm drinks?" I respond, once again refilling our glasses. "The Storm drinks tequila? I didn't think that she had it in her. We should probably raise a glass to her and cheer."

"I say that we turn this into a drinking game. We're sitting in the control room overlooking the Danger room there has to be something to do." My firework crackling, magazine loving, drinking buddy informs me.

As soon as those words leave her lips, a group of students walk into the Danger room. We both scramble over to the control panel to get a better look. "I think that mass of blond curls is Joey." I say, squinting at the little boy through the glass. Then I catch sight of someone that needs no introduction but I decide to mention him in passing anyway. "There's Logan. I saw his trouser trout earlier."

"Well I saw Mel's so many times in one day that I went cross eyed once."

I roll my eyes and lean against the wall. "If we're going to make this into a drinking game then what are the rules?"

"Um..." I think Jubilee is thinking about the plumbers urge purger because she's going cross eyed. "Every time that Wolvie shouts at anyone we have to down a shot."

I think I'm going to like this game. If we base the drinking around that one rule it means that we'll both be sprawled out on the floor within seconds. "Shouting is his second favourite pastime."

"What's his first?"

"Nibbling on my hoopdie hoops."

* * *

**Ten thoroughly exhausting minutes later...**

"My arm hurts." I slur into the control panel, drooling on numerous buttons. "I think I'm suffering from repeve... repetitive strain injury."

"You were right. He does like to shout." Jubilee whispers lying face down on the floor. "That was some very strong tequila. Storm has really gone up in my estimation."

I turn up the volume on the speaker and attempt to sit up. "I think he's shouting again."

"Is there even anyone left to shout at? Tell him to stop until we can find some more drink."

With my scrambled egg brain jumping ship, I can't answer but I can listen. Listening is good for a great many reasons... I just can't remember any of those reasons right now. Forcing my head up to face the glass, the speaker crackles to life.

"You're fallin' way behind kid! The bad guys are close and you're draggin' your team mates down with you! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your butt outta this class right now."

"Wow he's really giving that student a real chewing out." Jubilee says, drunkenly crawling towards me. "What's wrong Roguey? Roguey, Roguey, Roguey."

"That isn't just some student, it's Joey." I shout, punching at all the buttons. "How do you get this thing to work? I've told him before not to scare Joey! Oh, I'll give him a good reason."

A flailing hand slaps a button and the tanoy is immediately woken from a deep slumber. "Wolverine this is God." I whisper huskily into the microphone, causing him to stop what he's doing and swing around. "I love all my children, even the feral dicks that growl, lick and fuck their ways through life. But you have angered me Wolverine and that's a massive mistake on you part."

Jubilee giggles, the students stare and Logan snarls up at me.

"Stop snarling at me before I smite you. I'm God and I can crush you like a bug. I can also restrict the amount of times that you see my cooter. God has the right to be fussy with who she lays some pipe with. I'm a very hands on God Wolverine and don't forget that. Students listen to me carefully. For the rest of the class you'll play mutant tag. No ones allowed to tag Joey or I'll set my minions on you. And remember; dick, fuck and cooter are bad words. Under no circumstances are you permitted to use them. God over and out."

Five and a half seconds later I pass out.

* * *

My eyes open and I kick off the bed sheets that are slowly suffocating me. I'm drunk, confused and desperately cross my legs so that I don't wet myself.

Waiting until my eyes fully adjust to the darkness, I slip out of bed and stumble to the bathroom. I feel like I have the bladder the size of a peanut. Said peanut is being poked, prodded and then popped into a mouth waiting patiently to be eaten.

Isn't it strange what comes to a tequila addled brain?

Standing outside the bathroom door, I hear splashing. I think my ears might be clogged up with wax but the sound is having more of an effect on my poor bladder. The peanut is now very close to being crushed.

I rush into the bathroom, my eyes immediately drawn to the toilet. It appears to be glowing as if an industrial sized spot light has been placed somewhere in the room. Don't look at me, I definitely didn't give my permission for someone to install it.

"Thought your drunken ass was down for the rest of the night."

I ignore the question and dart to the toilet instead, yanking off my panties and hitching up my sun dress before I sit down. Then I spot Logan reclining in a bubble bath of all things. An actual bath with bubbles. Lots of bubbles.

"Stop looking at me." I splutter, shifting on the seat. "You're putting me off."

He sighs and his arm hangs lazily over the side of the bath."You've gotta quit underminin' me in front of the students."

I find myself sighing when my bladder finally empties the tidal wave of tequila from my body. "Joey didn't deserve you ripping him to shreds."

"What is it about _this_ kid?"

"You could have been asked the same question a few years back." I grumble while I flush the toilet and then wash my hands. I'm always stickler for personal hygiene. Even after spending part of the day destroying my liver, cleaning my hands has to be integral part of my night.

"That was different." Logan growls, his ass squeaking as he shifts in the tub. "You were different."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

My hips swing, my mind whirls, my hand reaches for a sponge and before I know it I'm perched on the side of the tub the soapy sponge sweeping across his broad chest. "I guess you've changed your mind." I mumble, my eyes hungrily lapping up the glorious sight of a wet and naked Wolverine.

"What about?" He asks, watching the sponge move slowly under the water in search of a ship wreck, the Joly Roger and all round yumminess that stars in my dreams.

"That fucked up marriage proposal of yours. It was a marriage proposal wasn't it? I mean I haven't just put my foot in my mouth have I?"

"I hope not. I was kinda hopin' you'd have room for somethin' else in there."

Our eyes meet, he holds my gaze and I softly stroke his inner thigh teasingly. Wolverine doesn't like being teased and demonstrates that when I find myself in the tub still fully clothed and thoroughly soaked.

"All you had to do was ask!" I yelp while sitting on his thick, muscular very naked thighs.

"Didn't know how else to get God's attention." He replies, smirking at me and pulling me into his arms.

My head rests against his chest, I smile and close my eyes. "Your words and erect under water love missile have been dually noted. Now I have to decide your fate."

"Take your time darlin', I've got enough to amuse me for a while yet."

"No sex." I shoot back, when I feel his hand fishing for the little bald man in the canoe. He likes to rub his thumb against it when he's unwinding after a long day.

"I can live with that." Logan's voice growls evenly in my ear. "Never met a God before. Guess my hands gotta lot of explorin' to do.

Tequila, tanoys and trouble are the most beautiful of things.


	35. Norwegian Wood

_**Thanks to a drunken rambling BrownEyedDevil for the longest review in the history of ff, also; Masanya - My fellow pervert that likes the thought of Logan and bubbles, dancinqt21, Ragamuffin, alexmonalisa - Another pervert, Comiccake - who is always so polite, The J lover - who I'm pleased has no life because she got to read this story and review, Cherish - who has finally resurfaced before I sent out a search party. **_

_**This chapter was written over a few days while watching various Monty Python films, Season four of House (Amber's just dying as I type this. I never did like her but I feel for Wilson's heart.) and an episode of Doctor Who (That explains the Winston Churchill references!) Also a fare few drinks were consumed, so all you have to do is read, review and just be glad that you're not in my head.**_

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**Norwegian Wood**

_Isn't it good, Norwegian wood._

_-The Beatles_

Logan's curvaceous, toned and scrumptious ass is lazing on the bed, fully dressed (Commiserations to you and better luck next time) with his battered boots on and a cigar hanging loosely from his lips. I would jump on him, shred the layers of denim, leather and finely sewn cotton off of his adorable, alluring, angelic and appealing body if I didn't have a time limit to adhere to. I could turn into the Hulk at a moments notice, I could easily rip my own clothes off first and then pin his chiselled ass to the beautifully woven sheets.

"You want me to strip and get in the tub again?"

Okay, maybe he's not exactly adorable… Lovable in the lecherous sense? Yes, absolutely.

"Don't you think my nose has suffered enough already? I almost suffocated on those bubbles." I remind him, brushing a comb through my unruly hair and wondering where I've put my straighteners.

I watch his reflection in the mirror and he smirks, it's a _'My fucking big, bulging cock almost choked you and you're blaming it all on the bubbles' _smirk. Who said that gruff mutants with an adamantium ass and the ability to heal don't like to gloat over almost choking their other halves to death?

Oh man, last night. A full moon was high in the sky, werewolves were tearing through the countryside in search of prey, Jubilee was most probably sticking pins in her voodoo dolls and praying for her magazine subscriptions, I was popping my brain salad surgery cherry and Mel the plumber is possibly still in hospital experiencing unexplained sharp pains in his male anatomy.

I hope he has a doctor with Gregory House's bedside manner... Mmm, Gregory House.

"What you grinnin' at?" Logan asks suspiciously, puffy away on his cigar like a finer, prettier version of Winston Churchill.

Turning around to look at him I decide that; Yes, he's very pretty but can be just as stubborn as Churchill supposedly was. Well, you can't win a war if you wave a white flag, then lay down and die after the very first attack.

Did Logan ever meet Winston Churchill? Why am I even thinking about Winston Churchill? How old is the mutant known as Wolverine? Is he like the Professor, too old to have sex?

He arches a God damn knee knocking, orgasm inducing eyebrow and I place my comb on the dresser, walk over to his side and gaze down at him. Has he always had that much facial fuzz?

"I was just thinking…"

"Did it hurt?" He snorts, placing the cigar between his lips and patting the bed suggestively.

I mockingly arch my own perfectly plucked eyebrow and wrinkle my nose at the waft of thick smoke that floats and dances in my line of vision, washing over my clothes and newly washed hair.

"No, but you might get hurt if you don't stop smoking. I'm now going to smell like a drunken bums ashtray for the rest of the day." I inform him, not at all surprised when he blatantly ignores my complaint and with a hand on my wrist, my cigar smoking possibly prehistoric guy tugs me onto the bed.

"I like the way you smell." Logan tells me, cigar in hand and little old me splayed out on the bed in a way that reminds me of how I spread butter on my toast in the morning. My hair is wildly swept to one side, appearing as though I have either been violated by a Storm special - a tornado of great force or my hair is trying desperately to escape from the hot kisses that are being inflicted on my collar bone. I'm not sure why that should cause my hair to get its panties in a twist, if it even had panties…

"Logan," I groan, my hands cupping the coarse denim protecting his buttocks without me even realizing it. Our fully clothed bodies are closer then close, his lips begin to climb higher, teasing my neck and banishing any thoughts of getting frisky with Winston Churchill… Not that I was ever having any such thoughts of course. "Not now, we have… Logan!"

How the fuck did he get his hand down there? I really was a little confused yesterday in my drunken Danger room ramblings, I'm not God, Logan is and he's in a very handsome disguise. I might just start going to church again if this is what I have to look forward to when I go to heaven. Maybe I should even lift the sex ban and then convince him to ride me to heaven every single minute of the day until I've paid for my sins.

"You were sayin'?" He whispers smugly in my ear, strumming away at my inner pink Fender Stratocaster in a homage to Jimi Hendrix, George Harrison and that other guy in that band I like.

"I… I can't answer when… Oh God!" I yelp, when another two fingers decide that they want to join the party down there. When did the thumb find the time to send out invites?

"You wanna run that by me again? Thought for a moment you just called me God."

The bastard is enjoying every minute of this and I don't care, honestly I… "Logan!"

"Thought I was God?" Logan/God/Wolverine/Mutant of many talents/ the love button playing extraordinaire utters, his fingers and thumb composing sweet music faster than Mozart or even The Beatles ever had the pleasure of doing.

"You seriously can't…" My body bucks and I feel as though I'm sinking into the very mattress while I try to spit out my words. "Oh… You're such a… More! Please don't stop."

"You gonna lay off me when I'm tryin' to teach?"

The glorious movement inside me stops all of a sudden, he calmly and almost painstakingly removes his fingers and starts to drum said fingers against my inner thigh. Lighting another cigar with the flick of a match, he props himself up with an elbow and furrows his brow.

"God wouldn't sink to such a level." I splutter, mourning the loss of his fingers and the fact that I was so close to nirvana, so close that I'm sure I've even wet myself in sheer excitement.

Logan snorts and trails a finger over my wet panties. "You shouldn't have worn a dress. Now, you gonna let me teach the students my way?"

I get the distinct feeling that it's either his way or those extremely talented fingers hit the highway.

"Why was a seven year old even in the Danger room?" I counter, snapping my legs closed and almost crushing his hand in the process. "He's just a kid, he should be outside playing and having fun."

"He ain't a normal kid, he's got a mutation."

Clambering off the bed with as much dignity as a young woman that has recently suffered from a ridiculous head injury, a miscarriage of justice that stopped her getting her rocks off and was unable to even suck on a warm salty tasting bratwurst without almost choking on it (I still say the bubbles and water didn't help matters. Anyway, what had he been eating to make it taste so bitter?) can do under the circumstances, I begin to pace a hole in the carpet.

"He's normal, Logan, just like you are."

That probably makes me sound like the biggest hypocrite going seeing as I chose to take the cure, effectively banishing my powers into mutant hell.

Logan appears apprehensive about my last remark, so I decide to spell it out for him. "You're both mutants, he's struggling to find somewhere to belong, just like you spent years doing and if I'm not mistaken, you both have a love for bubble baths."

"I was relaxin'." He grumbles, narrowly avoiding my questioning gaze.

"And you needed all those bubbles to do that?" I ask him, the amusement evident on my face for him to see.

"Quit tryin' to change the subject."

Holding my hands up in mock defeat, I fetch a fluffy white towel from the chair and shuffle towards the bathroom, hoping that I'm not squelching as I take each step. "Fine, whatever you say. I'll just be a few minutes, I need to take a quick shower." I see his ears perk up and a shadow of an animalistic smirk creep onto his hairy face. "Alone, as in without you and your fingers." I hastily add, pointing my own finger in warning to him. "Just wait there and whatever you do, don't go setting fire to the bed. We've got to leave in ten minutes and a visit from the fire brigade would really mess up my schedule."

"Aw, Marie." The biggest motherfucker in not only this mansion but the entire world groans, sounding like nothing more than a five year old being told to tidy his room when he wants to watch TV instead. "Why in the hell do I have to go?"

"Because," I reply, peeking out from behind the door. "I think I might want to become reacquainted with the bubbles again later tonight. I don't find it easy to relax after a stressful day and I'm wondering if a certain someone would be free to give me a few helpful pointers?"

"Depends on whether I'm busy later. You sure you don't need my help now?"

"We're taking Joey out for the day whether you like it or not. And no, you don't have to like it."

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"Hey, Storm! No, I mean Ororo… Um, Ro?"

Storm glances over at me from the couch and gestures for me to join her. "I told you not to call me Storm." She says, smiling at me gently.

"Yeah well, about what I said when I went a bit crazy." I say, trying my very best to meet her eyes but staring at her hair instead. It is slightly grey, isn't it? Okay, so I lied, it's pure white. Pearly grey with a dash of ivory, silvery, chalky silky smooth…

"Marie, I said it doesn't matter. Anyway, its all forgotten about now."

"Are you sure? I mean, I did tell you that you were a fetish lovers fantasy. Those guys who want to jump a granny minus her walker would love you."

I probably let my mouth run away from me that time, now she appears to be pretty taken aback and I would bet a hot sweaty night with Logan that she's going to book an appointment at the hairdressers after this. "Your head really isn't a fetish, it's just my big mouth running away from me again. Just don't go dying your hair or shaving it off completely like Britney Spears because of what I said."

Sometimes I wish that I wasn't able to talk or that my tongue would be cut out of my mouth while I slept. I don't like pain though and I'm quite attached to my tongue, it's been with me my entire life. I'm not a fan of change either and the removal of my tongue would be a major change, how would I French kiss Logan without my tongue? If I lost my lips too, I wouldn't have to choke on Logan's ankle spanker again.

Speaking of Logan; "You ready to head off darlin'?" And I'm saved by Mr. I-Ain't-Happy-About-This-And-I'm-Gonna-Make-You-Pay-With-My-Choice-Of-Sexual-Positions.

"Yes, come on. Hey, I said come on, lets go." I tell him, grabbing hold of his hand and attempting to forcefully extract him from the rec room. It doesn't work as well when you're up against a brick wall of feral hotness, he really is pleasing to the eye, isn't he? I can't keep staring at him all day because I really need to get out of Storms way before she starts tearing her hair out with her bare hands.

"What's wrong with her?" He questions me, when Storm almost runs out of the room mumbling about hairdressers and expensive dye jobs under her breath.

"I have no idea." I reply, pecking him on the cheek and risking exposure to the worst case of stubble rash that this world has ever encountered. What would Logan look like without the facial fuzz? Would a shave be for better or for worse? "Where's Joey?" I ask, after I realize that there is no sandy haired little boy with a sprinkle of freckles by his side.

"I locked him in the car, it took me fifteen minutes to find the punk."

"You locked him in the car?"

"Well, I weren't gonna sit on him." Logan grunts coolly, guiding me out of the room with a arm around my shoulders.

"Couldn't you just sit with him in the car?" I reply scornfully, shaking off his arm. "You did tell him why he's there, didn't you?" He only rolls his eyes and throws his arm back around me. "Oh, Logan, he probably thinks that he's been kidnapped by a wolf in Bigfoot's clothing."

"You sayin' that you don't like my body hair?"

"No, I'm saying that a person with your amount of body hair shouldn't be abducting innocent little kids and hiding them away in his cave."

We walk into the garage or as I like to call it; Logan's cave and he growls to himself. If I keep shooting off my mouth no strand of her hair will be safe from a pair of scissors or a back shaver. "Keep sulking Logan, it makes you look cute and if you can find the time out of your busy schedule, do you think that you can unlock the car?"

Joey has fallen asleep in the car even before we've set off and Logan is already in one of his moods, I've had two showers, insulted two people about their hair and all I was trying to do was make a little boy happy. I guess that I was screwed before I rolled out of bed this morning, probably because I haven't been physically screwed or impaled by an actual jaw breaker in a few days.

I most definitely have a serious problem if I can't stop thinking about Logan's purple headed clarinet. How can I be so obsessed by a persons rock monster that it takes over my life without me realizing it? This isn't even a case of Norwegian wood, it's an encounter with an immense but pleasurable endangered specimen of Canadian wood that has fried my brain cells.

Have my thoughts always been this objectionable? Oh my God, did my mind just file Logan's spunky monkey under regrettable and repulsive? I have a problem and I need to either hurt someone or fuck someone in the next few hours. This probably serves me right for holding my bearded clam hostage from infinite pleasure, karma really is a bitch.


	36. I Am The Walrus

**New chapter, it's just been finished and is dedicated to ady- ell, who as her cyber self, has kept me company while I completed this chapter. ****Although, she did abandon me minutes later! I think I'll forgive her just this once, but don't do it again, Yank! This is also dedicated to ady-ell's mum, who has now joined me in cyber space. **

**I've actually really missed writing and updating this story. I'm also so close to stumbling on to the beginning of the end, I just can't quite believe it. **

**Apart from one review that pissed me off and sparked a mini war of words between me and another user, the reviews have been positive, and that I thank you for. **

**Also the usual thanks to those that have reviewed since I last updated; comic, vicster's, alex, dancinqt21, pepper, princes, The reserved reader, Kirawolf, asd, raven and anglophile. **

**This chapter is probably what you would call a filler, and yes, I rambled ;)**

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**I Am The Walrus**

I haven't thought about slipping out of my clothes, lying on a bed, the backseat of the car, a sidewalk, a park bench, underneath the bones of the T-Rex in the lobby or in the security guards office and partaking in a little horizontal mambo with Logan for all of seven minutes… Make that eight minutes and ten seconds, eleven seconds, twelve seconds, thirteen seconds…

"Marie, look at this!"

Joey's excited voice snaps me out of my naughty thoughts, and I nudge Logan in the side. He's been his usual moody self and has growled at no less then five people in the last ten minutes. Three of them were museum curators telling me and Joey not to touch the exhibits, it's not like I didn't spot the ten foot signs with their bold lettering. I just like to touch, squeeze and stroke every object with my hands… I think it's a horny girl thing.

Another problem we encountered was a particularly stupid woman lecturing him for lighting a cigar as we strolled through the left atrium of a human heart (Yes, this museum has everything except an enormous walk-though penis with dancing sperm and Wolverine as their guest star )

I guess if a lady who was the double of _The Michelin Man _came strolling up to you, waved her chubby finger in you face and plucked a cigar from your lips, you'd growl too. I'm not exaggerating, she really did look like _The Michelin Man's _twin. I blame the layers of white clothing she had squeezed her rolls of fat and monstrous monstrosity of an ass into. The colour white is always hard to pull off fashion wise, especially when you resemble a one thousand pound partially melted marshmallow.

Then there was the little girl that dropped her ice cream cone on Logan's foot. He growled, she cried, Joey asked if he could have an ice cream, and I had to spend the best part of twenty minutes explaining to the girl's parents why they shouldn't call security.

That's why Logan's giving me the silent treatment; I told them that I was his carer and this was his first daytrip out of the psychiatric hospital in months.

Personally I thought it was amusing, he seemed to disagree and yes, he growled. Boy, did he growl. At one point I was sure he had swallowed a fucking Rottweiler while I wasn't looking. It would be just like him to eat an animal out of protest because I've dragged his ass to a museum.

I skip over to Joey's side (It's not my fault if all the exhibits make me slightly giddy) and glance at the life sized model of a Saber-toothed tiger he appears to be delighted by. Kids really are strangle little creatures, aren't they?

"Wow, look at it's teeth." I utter in awe, tracing a finger down a canine and whistling.

Joey gazes up at me with an enormous toothy grin. "They're more like fangs." He announces his hands twitching excitedly. "They lived ten thousand years ago and attacked other animals by pinning them to the ground just like we do in combat class."

I read the information board for myself and grimace. "Oh, I hope you don't bite your partners jugular vein too. Now, that's nasty and those poor deer."

"No, we're not allowed to aim for the windpipe."

That comment is exactly why we're here. Joey needs to know there's a life outside of the mansion and he's only seven for Christ sake. Seven year olds shouldn't be discussing topics with that degree of seriousness. "Have you touched him yet?" I ask him mischievously.

He shakes his head and wrinkles his brow. "How do you know it's a him?"

"Have you seen it's face? He's ugly and only males are _that_ ugly."

Joey giggles and playfully tugs at my arm. "No they're not!" He shrieks with laughter when I tickle him under his arms. "Girls are the ugly ones. "

"You won't be saying that in another seven years." I whisper in his ear and pat the Saber-Toothed tiger on the head. "Do you know what he feels like?"

My little friend pats the model too and jumps back after receiving a warning look from a member of security. How do they expect a kid to learn if they can't touch anything? What kind of damn museum is this anyway? "He's feels like my mom's face did before she started shaving." Joey replies solemnly, the smile vanishing from his face. "Can I go look over there?"

"Sure. I'll just be over there with Logan."

That was the first time he's ever brought the subject of his family up with me. I mean, I know he has a family. Everybody has a family, even _Perez Hilton _has one and let me tell you, if Perez was related to me, I would be too ashamed to ever bring him up. Maybe I'm worrying over nothing, His situation could be completely different from mine.

I shuffle over to Logan's side and sit beside him. He doesn't mutter a word, the grumpy bastard. So I stretch my legs out in front of me and start to hum. Watching a dozen or so people walk by, I scoot closer to him and attempt to spot what's caught his undivided attention. He's glaring straight ahead, eyeballing the Saber-toothed tiger, his lips in a drawn out frown.

Ah.

Oh.

Right.

Well at least it isn't a scantily clad slut. This I can deal with… I think. Um, I guess a hand job is out of the question, but there are other ways to comfort him.

"You know, I picked fruit once." I say, my voice low and flat, taking his hand in mine. "It was the summer from hell. Actually that was the year from hell, my mutation manifested not so long after. I suppose that might have something to do with why I find fruit a real turn off now." He's still silent and stony faced, the noise of the crowd buzzing away in the background. "But…" I lean closer, my lips sweeping over his ear. "I'll always have a place in my heart for bananas and wild monkey sex."

Before you ask, no I have no idea what made me say that. It seems to have done the trick though, Logan's eyes are skimming my face, and not the Saber-Toothed tiger. "Anyone ever told you you're nuts?" He responds, his lips twitching.

I pretend to ponder on that and squeeze his hand. "Actually, I think you're the first."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?

He snorts, unclenching my sweaty hand from his and stretches his arms high above his head.

Have his biceps always been _that _large? Logan really does have hairy pits, there's a mole under there too. Has that mole always been there? I've never noticed it before, and I've spent months studying every inch of his body.

Then again, I wouldn't have known I had a dimple on my left buttock if Bobby hadn't have pointed it out. Ugh, Bobby… I think I just threw up in my mouth slightly. He used to call me his little dimple and splutter "I'm the man! I'm the God damn man!" when he rocked himself into an orgasm, or chocked the thawing chicken.

I begin to blush at my memories of that dark, dark time and how he accidentally iced his ding-dong once. We both cried, him in horror and me in laughter. Oh, I guess each relationship has it's highs and lows. Bobby's 'whoopsie' with his newly frozen popsicle being the highlight of the entire four years, of course.

"Logan, put your arms down." I order, casting a threatening look at a goggle-eyed lady with her tongue hanging out. "People are going to think you're one of the exhibits."

My eyes tell her to move along, my ass scoots closer to Logan and I'm pretty sure that I just growled. I suppose that's all in a days work when the lug head here feels the need to flex his…

Seriously, were his biceps always that size? Has he been guzzling down steroids at an alarming rate, while bench pressing _Kanye West's_ ego, keeping to a strict diet of protein drinks and steamed fish, as he effectively avoids all brands of beer, whiskey and Pina Colada's?

Yes, Logan is a fan of Pina Colada's, without straws, paper umbrellas and anything else too fussy, bright, fun, sparkly, or 'girlie'. I just wish that disgust would spill over and drown the passion for those girlie magazines he hides in his locker.

"Move any closer, Darlin', and you'll be sitting in my lap." Logan grunts, his eyes betraying his interest in that tramp.

Oh, and she's not wearing a bra, how very European of her. "And keep staring at her, and I'll snap your corn dog in half, then feed it to the pigeons outside." Logan merely bows that magical, majestic eyebrow of his, smirks at me and carries on regardless. "Are you telling me, that's the first pair of sagging rib-bumpers you've ever seen?"

"Nope. I get to see yours, don't I?"

I gasp, and shove him so hard, he almost falls off the bench. The saggy stick with the fully stacked top shelf gawks at us both, a member of the Gestapo (Or security, as the normal people call them) walks over and asks us to calm down, and Logan groans at the annoyance of it all.

Standing up, I brush off his attempt at an apology, which consists of a lazy eye roll and a wink. That does it, I'm going to show him. The arrogant, perverted, muscle bound, hairy-assed prick.

"Hey, you!" I cry, waving my hand in the face of Mr. I-Am-An-Animal-In-The-Sack-Because-I-Sweat-Like-A-Pig-And-Eat-Like-One-Too-Judging-By-The-Size-Of-My-Stomach-Neck-And-My-Wobbly- Bobbly-Chin-Fat. "Seeing as you have such an important job, and are seen as a Demigod in this museum, I'd like to ask you a _very_ important question."

The security guard (See, I can be normal) smiles, nods his head and says, "Sure, what can I do for you, miss?"

I remove my denim jacket, throw it at a thunderstruck Logan, and puff out my chest. "Are these saggy? You see, I've been thinking about surgery and I thought I'd better start with these puppies first."

The man gulps and looks me up, down, and settles on my Sex-Orbs-Of-Love. "Yeah, they're very shapely and…"

'Snikt'

"Logan, don't even think about it!" I screech, pulling him back as he lunges at the security guard. The poor man, who happens to be the last line of defence in the case of an alien attack at the museum, just stumbles back and holds his arms up to protect his podgy face.

"What is your problem? You were looking at that saggy slut!" I point at the woman in particular with a sneer, digging my thoroughly bitten finger nails into his bare arm. "If you'd kept your fucking jacket on, and broadened your style, so you wore more then just a vest…"

"This ain't my fault." Logan snaps back, the glint of his canines causing me to shield my eyes. Somebody has certainly been flossing and investing their time in perfecting their dental hygiene. "You were flashing your mounds at some fat fucker!"

The fat fucker in question, clears his throat and taps his enormous clown feet in quick succession. "I'm going to have to ask you both to leave the premises."

"Oh, great. Good going, Logan."

"This ain't my damn fault!"

"You need to both leave now, or I'm going to call the cops."

Logan glares, growls and my God, he's gorgeous. I only blush, snap my mouth shut and look for any sign of Joey. "We did bring a little boy with us, didn't we?" I mutter my question to a pair of scowling men, a saggy slut and a number of nosey passers-by.

"This place really needs a God damn bar." Is the reply I receive, and I couldn't agree more, but that's beside the point. We've been thrown out of the museum for our behaviour, Logan thinks very little of my melons and Joey has done a runner, wandered off, or been kidnapped.

"What if he's been kidnapped?" I squeak, beginning to chew my nails out of sheer panic.

"Then he'll be dumped back here before long. Nobody's gonna put up with that little shit for less then a million bucks, a hooker and a hot tub." He sighs, sheathing his claws and yawning to himself. "There a bar around here? One that's cheap and doesn't let women or kids set foot through the door?" Logan asks the crowd, ignoring my look of disgust.

"He's a monster!" The saggy slag shrieks, making me grin from ear to ear. "The beast has claws!"

Yep, I'm with Logan. I wonder if there's a bar around here? One that refuses to serve certified nut-jobs with drooping, floppy, limp, flabby flapdoodles. The type of people that don't have the decency to wear a bra, and save the general population the distasteful scenes that now follow.

"Put a cork in it, and please buy yourself an over shoulder boulder holder for the sake of others around you. One day, you're going to poke someone's eye out with those… Those things!" And with that, I push past Logan, side step Saggy, and avoid the security guard like the plague.

Maybe coming here was a mistake. The last time I was at this stupid museum, we had to leave because of John and his idiotic cock fight over his lighter. Okay, I'm officially embarrassed over my behaviour and I want the ground to swallow me whole, then spit me out in the nearest bar.

"Dammit, Marie, slow your ass down."

Where can Joey be? Does he really enjoy worrying me like this? I really am going to kill him. Sure, I can understand him not wanting to be around Logan, but me? What's the matter with me?

I'm going to turn left, walk this way and hopefully lose Logan in the crowds. Let me think, if I was a seven year old boy in a museum, where would I be?

I root around in my pocket in search of a map, and feel a pair of strong arms snake around my waist. "You know I was jokin', right? Your jugs don't sag."

"Just do me a favour and have a sniff around for Joey's scent. He's probably hungry and there's a _Big Mac _meal with my name on it."

He huffs and peers over my shoulder, while I do my best impression of a worried mother, and not a horny, good for nothing, strumpet with sex on the brain. "You're still pissed at me." He grumbles, sounding noticeably surprised that I didn't immediately fall into his arms and swoon.

I shake his arms off me, and snatch my jacket from him. "You'll be lucky if you ever see my lung protectors again." I reply, attempting to keep the chill from my voice. As usual, I completely fail and yet, I'm not at all depressed by the sentiment. I've seen Logan naked, in all his glory, completely removed of all clothing… Would a condom be considered as a piece of clothing? People do call them raincoats, or am I just rambling away in my head because I don't want to be having this conversation?

"What's your problem?" Logan demands, stopping me before I even have a chance at taking a step in my chosen direction. I really wish he wouldn't grab hold of my arm like that. "It ain't your time of the month." He continues, trying to elaborate and not the least bit bothered about sparing my blushes.

At least he didn't crouch on all fours and sniff my crotch. Now that would have been embarrassing.

"I don't want to talk about it." I state as calmly and rationally as one woman can, in spite of all that's happened. "The security guard is still watching us, and we need to find Joey. Or has it completely slipped your mind that we've just been thrown out of here?"

Between you and me; That's the you at home, in the library, at school, at a friends, a relatives, or just sitting in you bedroom and reading this (Fully clothed, I hope) I need to share something. It's rather personal and I really don't feel like telling Logan.

You see, it will go one of four ways: He'll growl, laugh, agree, or become horny. And I don't think I can deal with any of that right now.

It stems from this miserable time long before I became a mutant, before I'd even had sex with a hairy, self confessed bubble bath worshipper. I was in High school, boys were boys, my boobs were my boobs and some rather hurtful comments were made, exchanged and written on my locker.

Needless to say, I'm no longer Mindless-Marie-And-her-Hypothetical-Hubcaps, and I don't get told I'm baseless while playing baseball, or how no guy will be able to get to second base with me. How my flying saucers have broken out of Area 51, that my Whoopee cushions have deflated and somebody must have sat on me, and _Indiana Jones _must have finally come along and discovered the Holy Grail… In fact he found two, and forcefully removed them both from my possession. Oh, and my favourites were; My soft serve cones melted in the Southern sun, and I was taken to court because my traffic cones were causing record breaking pile-ups throughout the state, so the judge ordered them to be removed at the cost of the tax payers, and that's why everybody hates me.

"Marie, snap the hell outta it, will you."

I blink and shake my head. Whoa, what just happened there? I swear I was right back in High school flipping people off, and crying in the toilets. Get a grip, you're older, wiser, lumbered with Logan and have seen an honest to God, real life lumberjacks newly felled tree in a sea of forestry.

"Just use your mutation to find Joey."

And I have a pair of bosoms to be proud of, I think. They don't sag, do they? Is it possible that Logan is mollycoddling my hooters to such a degree that they're beginning to sag? I mean, I'm only young and this shouldn't be happening to me yet. I'm only a baby, there's so much more I can do with them. Like… Um, paint with them, as an alternative to finger painting, or uh, rent them out to unsuspecting men as pillows on an overnight flight to Hong Kong.

It doesn't have to only be Hong Kong, other destination will do and I'm open to offers.

Logan cocks his head and inhales deeply. "There's too many scents here."

"Fine, I think he said something about wanting to see the fossils." I call over my shoulder, almost bumping into the security guard. I have a feeling we're being followed, and he's not very good at it. It doesn't help my self esteem either when Logan drapes his jacket over my chest, then glares at the guy.

I think they are starting to sag. Should I have surgery or hide them away from the world behind four different bra's and a woolly jumper? Maybe I should just throw a paper bag over my head too and be done with it?

Slapping Logan's hands away, I swear that I'm seconds away from having a mental breakdown.

I hear him grumble to himself, and carry on following the colour co-ordinated directions to Joey, I hope. I'm probably beyond the point of hope, perhaps I'm praying. Praying to God, that Logan will wake tomorrow with saggy man boobs and the shoe will be on the other foot then. Yes, that would be a dream come true, I'm praying for all men that obsess and objectify women's breasts to wake up tomorrow with a pair of their own sagging snow tires.

Ha, that would show them.

Logan holds a finger in the air and points to where the fossils are housed. "He's been down here. I can smell him. It's fresh too."

"Great, that security guards looks as though he's about to give birth to a baby rhino at any moment." I whisper, my brain feeling slightly grossed out by that thought. It's not just that he's overweight, it's the look on the guy's face, like someone has just stolen a bucket of chicken from under his nose. Or made a comment about his saggy boobs. I can totally see that happening by the way, at least five times a day if he's lucky.

I spot Joey through another doorway, standing in the lobby. Within seconds a wave of relief sweeps through me. He hasn't be kidnapped, he's just preoccupied by a giant dinosaur skeleton. I guess it won't be long before he starts to stare at women's breasts and make passing comments, that could possibly scar a girl for life. I need to have a word with him about girls, the way they develop at different stages and how to not act clueless like Logan.

"Joey, come on, we're leaving now." I shout over to the little boy, not in the least bit bothered that I've received numerous sets of disapproving gazes. Nobody told me a museum was like a library, and why the heck is Logan staring at me like that?

"Is that all you're gonna say to the pain in the fuc…"

Luckily, or in hindsight not so luckily, Joey interrupts the start of Logan's tirade.

"Marie, I've seen a stuffed walrus and rocks from space, a Dodo bird. And look at this, it's the biggest one I've ever seen!"

I look, I blink, and I don't quite believe what I'm seeing. In fact, my brain decides to float down a completely different path of thought; it really could be worse, my boobs might sag, but I don't look like a Walrus. So, in the end, I think that Logan has well and truly destroyed my confidence in my breasts.

Logan starts towards Joey, his face paling by the second. "Kid, put the damn thing back!"

The security guard hollers at us, the visitors scatter, and screams fill the air. I glance up, my eyes darting from the swaying skeleton of a T-Rex to the dinosaur bone in Joey's hand.

As the fat lady sings (or was that a scream?) and the forty two foot skeleton crumbles, I think to myself; He might have joked about my saggy boobs, but I don't resemble a fucking Walrus, thank you very much, or do I?


	37. Let It Be

**_New chapter, obviously and I've finally been able to release a certain plot bunny that's been bothering me since I first began this story. I can't believe it's taken me so long, but the day has finally come. You'll need to read the chapter to understand what has me so excited. _**

**_This idea was there from the very start of the first chapter, it wouldn't leave me alone and I knew I'd use it eventually. I just had to wait and bide my time, I've certainly done that. I'm even looking forward to writing the next chapter because I love plot twists and secrets. _**

**_Thanks to: Princesakarlita411, alexmonalisa, Raven34link, The Reserved Reader, ady-ell, comic-cake, starlight2twilight, Ragamuffinsundrop, CrushedHalex, wedimagineer and my rambling, cardboard boy loving kidnapping accomplice - I loved reading all of your reviews._**

**_On a more serious note, I now have the Wolverine movie on my iPod and it's a little too distracting. Have you ever tried to take a bus ride while staring at the lovely Hugh Jackman and his naked flesh on a tiny screen? I was only going to meet my friend, at one point I gazed away from the screen for a few seconds and saw my friend... She was standing at the bus stop, the same bus stop I was supposed to meet her at. Strangely, I forgot to press the bell until it was too late and had to get off the stupid bus at the next stop. That film should carry a warning, the type of warning that warns you that friends and grumpy bus drivers might not understand how easily it is to be distracted by Hugh and his nakedness. LMFAO!_**

_**On an even worse note, I need to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. I'm off to the north east to watch my first football match in years. It not only gives me more time to watch the Wolverine film, but I get free fish and chips too, what a perfect day :P **_

**_

* * *

_**

**Let It Be**

_Whisper words of wisdom,_

_Let it be_

_

* * *

_

We're one of _those _couples. A silent couple that sits opposite each other silently in the middle of _McDonalds_ in silence. I hate those couples. They eat, drink, sit, yawn, stare, scowl, frown, arch eyebrows and ignore each other in complete silence.

It's silly, ridiculous, stupid, insane, childish and I'm not apologising first. What do I have to say sorry about? I was trying to teach Logan a lesson, that was all. I'm self conscious of my breasts, he should know that already. I mean, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to work it out. Every woman dislikes and wants to maim one part of her body to death, my first target would be my breasts.

Perhaps the Professor would fund a boob job? He's stinking rich and rolling in _Benjamin Franklin's. _If I promised never to mention his needs again, and turned a cheek to a future smash and grab at the sex store, I bet he would. He's nice like that, always wanting to donate to a good cause and make a better world. Who's more persecuted then a woman with low self worth and natural breasts that resemble bee stings?

I'm all natural and I pride myself on that… Well I used to.

Why won't these niggling feelings go away? They're chipping away at what little confidence I had. I'm sorely tempted to let myself loose with a scalpel, silicone implants and a bottle of vodka for courage. After all, I'm not a great fan of needles and the sight of blood makes me feel faint.

Logan slouches back in his chair and I know he's staring at me, I can feel it. When he looks at me, my nipples harden and those fine hairs on my arms, legs, feet, crotch, and the back of my neck stand on end.

I guess I really need to shave more often, a colour coordinated rota is probably in order. I'd need to buy some highlighters though, and some card. There must be a store around here somewhere, oooh, I hope there's a _Staples, _I love shopping at _Staples. _Sometimes I think I was destined to become a secretary, a personal assistant or just the greatest manager that _Staples _ever had.

"I'd bet my bottom dollar your thoughts are runnin' close to mine, Darlin'."

I very much doubt that, but I tear my eyes away from my half eaten fries and fix him with a reproachful glare. He's interrupted my free flowing thoughts and all of a sudden I hated him for it. By the time a girl hit's her early twenties, she's earned herself the right to ramble away in her own little mind without cause or provocation. I guessed that was yet another rule Logan couldn't or wouldn't abide by.

"Not unless you're considering the possibility of some slightly intrusive surgery and a new career as the worlds greatest stationary store manager." I reply as politely as Naomi Campbell at an anger management course for dummies, divas and the damn right dreadful.

He does the _thing_ with the eyebrow again and my eyes instantly dart back to my fries. He knows it turns me on, and I know I need something to distract me, so I stuff a hand full of fries into my mouth. Concentrating on the number of times I chew, instead of that fucking eyebrow, I ignore his curious look.

"What do you mean, surgery?" He demands, rudely ignoring the mention of the second most celebrated store in the land. The first is of course where I work, that place is just the nuts. I wouldn't say it was close to Logan's nuts, more of a chocolate Brazil nut like status. They're larger then peanuts and I guess they come from Brazil. I've never been there and I wonder if it's as exotic as it sounds?

I really don't like peanuts, not even the chocolate covered ones. Would Logan grumble and threaten to claw my eyes out if I dipped his balls into melted chocolate? It'd be an alternate version of a fondue evening, but instead of dipping strawberries into the melted chocolate, you bring your own man and dip away.

"What do you know about Joey's family?" I question him, deliberate changing the subject. "There was this look on his face earlier when he talked about his mom, it upset him."

"He probably was upset, she's dead."

My gaze snaps to the play area that we're sitting a stones throw away from. I chose this table especially, I wanted to keep an eye on him. I watch Joey play happily with the other kids, he hurtles down the slide and dives into the pool of multicoloured plastic balls.

"But he's so young, it's just not fair." I whisper, resting a hand on my chest. My hearts just broken in two and I want to rush in there, mother him to death, and hug him until he can't stand the sight of me.

"People die, that's life." Logan responds, a little too emotionally detached for my liking. He must recognise the look in my eyes because he elaborates further. "Least he got to know her. She might be six feet under, but the kid's got the memories."

I'm sure there's some kind of sweetness hidden under those words. Is it possible that he's finally warming to Joey? Logan even saved him from being crushed by the T-rex earlier. Although it's possible he realised I'd never have sex with him again if Joey had been squashed. I've never seen him run so fast, he scooped the little boy up in his arms and dived out of the skeletons way.

"What happened to her?"

"Drunk driver mowed her down at a bus stop, the kid saw. He tried to move the car off her."

I blink at Logan through knitted brows. "Oh, God, the poor thing." I say, the sadness cracking through my stubborn resolve. I didn't want to talk to him, but that never lasts longer then a few hours. There's something about Logan. It's like I'm a flexible, bendable paper clip and he's the horny, hot magnet.

The horny, hot and hairy magnet dumps his empty burger wrappers on the tray. He ate three double cheese burgers, one _Big Mac_ and half of Joey's hamburger. I guess he was a little peckish, but he still complained that _McDonalds _didn't sell beer.

"The shock of it all probably caused his mutation to manifest, that's what Storm thought anyway." Logan sighs, digging in his jacket pocket and without a growled grunt of 'Abracadabra,' he produces a cigar held tightly between his fingers.

The sudden realisation that I have no idea what Joey's mutation is, hits me like a tonne of bricks, _Maxwell's silver hammer_ and a cellphone thrown by Naomi Campbell. "I don't even know what his mutation is."

"That's because you're too wrapped up in your own little world."

That hurts and I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. But it might just be my large, weekend style handbag that I throw over my shoulder as I stand. "Okay, I'm selfish, I get it."

Logan along with his ever vocal eyebrow and big mouth continues to dress me down. And not in the fun way. "You walk through life without a care in the fuckin' world, Marie. When you ain't shiftin' the damn blame for your mistakes, you're either ignorin' me, or holdin' back the sex."

"Oh, so that's what this is all about, huh!" I snap back, not caring if the entire restaurant descends into silence, and who doesn't like silence? "The Wolverine isn't happy unless he's humping the day away and _his _girl is _this_ close to battering him to death with her handbag! Have you any idea what this weighs, Logan? I could be arrested for carrying an offensive weapon around with me."

I turn my back on him and stamp all the way to the rest rooms. I don't fucking care if people are staring, my bladder needs all my undivided attention at the moment. I knew I shouldn't have ordered the extra large _Cola_.

Throwing the door open and cringing slightly as it slams against the tiled walls, I scold myself for throwing a tantrum. I must learn to embrace the silence from now on. I'm above this, I'm an adult and I haven't thrown a tantrum since I was seventeen… That was Logan's fault too, come to think of it.

He's got such a bug up his ass, he needs to learn to take a deep breath and walk away from a situation. If I bother him _that_ much, if I'm so utterly repulsive and he hates the fact that my boobs are small, then he can leave. I can be single, I liked being single and it's not like I'd miss the sex.

Oh boy, who am I kidding?

Stepping into the ladies restroom I hear a couple of slightly suggestive grunts and I find myself blushing. I bet sex was on Logan's mind when he first started the conversation with me at the table, he really isn't an unnecessarily chatty guy. It's very polite of him to even bring it up at all, usually he'd just throw me over his shoulder and march to whatever place had caught his eye. It could be his car, truck, a cave, Charles's office, under a rock, on the roof, in the garage or I suppose a public restroom in the middle of a busy _McDonalds_ during the peak times on a Saturday afternoon would do.

They might not be having sex in there, it could be a serious case of constipation…

"More!"

Or not.

The door opens, a couple trip over each other and their entwined limbs, tumbling to the floor and landing at my feet. Great, now this isn't embarrassing at all, is it? I try not to stare, I really do, but I can't help myself. There's a naked guy in front of me, well his pants are hanging loosely from his ankles and that's not the only thing hanging loosely. You'd think he'd be able to get _it _up with all the noise his fuck buddy was making.

I gasp, I scrutinise every inch of his face, then gasp and point. I feel the urge to gasp once more, just so the naked man understands how shocked I am. He smiles at me, he fucking smiles and before I know what I'm doing my hand is rummaging through my bag. "I can't believe you could do this…" I snarl, my hand finally finding my weapon of choice. I pull it out of my bag slowly, and glare for all I'm worth.

Now he fully understands my position on his extra curricular activities, I slam the weapon against his clammy skin and taser the shit out of him. "You rat bastard, Mel! You lying, cheating, bastard, you're not even a decent plumber!"

The woman looks terrified and begins to crawl away from me. Mel slumps to the ground twitching and whimpering, I start to back away before I shove the taser down his fucking throat and fry his tonsils.

First Logan insults me, I find out about Joey and now Jubilee is going to marry a lying, no good cheating, shitty plumber who has nothing better to do on his Saturdays then… Then… Well, do other sluts while my best friend is sitting at home, and dreaming of the perfect white wedding.

"Die you asshole, die!"

* * *

"Why did we have to leave, I was having fun." Joey whines from the back seat for the fifty eighth time in a row. It's Logan's turn to answer this time, I'm having trouble putting into context what happened.

"Cause' it was time to leave, Kid." He grunts over his cigar, his eyes flickering to me. "People get a little funny when they think they're witnessin' a murder."

"Wow, was someone really getting murdered?"

I refuse to look at Logan again, so I merely glance out of the car window. The scenery is so pretty this time of year. "No, Joey, nobody was murdered, Logan saw to that."

The car falls into silence once again and you know how I love silence. It's such a beautiful thing, especially with a mind like mine. Oooh, look there's a_ Staples_, I wonder if they sell tasers? Logan crushed mine with his bare hands after I tickled him with it. Okay, so it wasn't much of a tickle, more of a sharp burst of electricity attacking his nerves, but that's what you get when you attempt to persuade me not to taser a lying, cheating bastards testicles off.

I was going to take the testicles back to Jubilee; she'd cry, scream, laugh and then we were going to have fondue. It was going to be fun, I'm supposed to be her best friend and that's what best friends do.

Logan draws the car to a stop and hands Joey a ten dollar bill, telling him to buy some candy, or whatever shit kids buy these days to rot their teeth with.

The door shuts and I know I'm in for it, nobody tasers the Wolverine and lives to tell the tale. "You outta your fuckin' mind?" He growls, the spit decorating the side of my face. "That the way you act when you've got a kid with you?"

That wasn't what I was expecting, no really, it wasn't. He's more concerned about what Joey may have witnessed, then me tickling him with a taser. Maybe he liked the taser? If it turned the likes of him on, then we should start stocking them at the sex store, they'd sell like hotcakes to the perverts.

I don't answer, there's really not much to say. I should be concentrating on how to break the news to Jubilee without her having a nervous breakdown and burning down Mel's home after setting fire to his clothes and sneakers in the bathtub. She doesn't react well to bad news, bad hair days, bad complexions, bad outfits, bad breath…

"Shit, Marie, maybe that crack on the head did some damage,"

I don't answer that either, it'll only lead to another argument. I suppose that's why silence is golden. Whoever came up with that saying must have been unfortunate to have met Logan.

He chews thoroughly on his cigar and sighs, "Where the fuck did you get the taser from anyway?"

"I found it after the raid, Stryker's men…"

Logan growls and my mouth snaps shut. He doesn't like to be reminded of that time or of Stryker, some wounds never heal. Jean's one of those wounds, and I can't help feeling that we wouldn't be together if she was still here. She had breasts to be proud of, they were so round and pert. They weren't like mine, poor Joey saw his Mom die and what about Jubes?

As soon as we get back to the mansion, I'm going to find Jubilee straight away, sit her down and tell her what I know. This wedding can't go ahead, and I won't let it.

Wolverine opens his mouth to growl through another tirade and I beat him to it, "Let it be, Logan."

* * *

_One month later…_

I'm a fucking coward, that's yet another missed opportunity to talk to Jubilee. She thinks I've been avoiding her and that's because I have been avoiding her. Hence why I'm a coward and the biggest coward going. I may as well change my name to: Coward Marie Hasn't Been Laid In Over A Coward Month And Will Not Look At Her Coward Naked Self In The Mirror D'Ancanto.

I'd need a pretty substantial sized credit card to fit that name on. Of course I'd then need to buy a bigger purse and bag. There's always the possibility I could hire somebody to carry it around for me, not that Logan would approve if the person was a male, or was female but looked rather masculine.

Our relationship is hanging by a thread and Logan's all for shredding that damn thread with a claw. Don't get me wrong, I know he cares for me. But nothings been the same since the taser incident. He's probably just harbouring unresolved issues towards my right hand.

It's not like I can talk, I won't let him near me. We might still share the same bed and I know he's a red blooded male with more needs then the Professor, however, my breasts come first.

That's why I'm loitering outside Hanks office in the lower levels, I came to a decision last night when I came across one of Logan's porn magazines, the asshole left it out on the bed knowing full well I'd see it… Wait, this is not about him, it's about my decision.

I think I need a drum roll for this, I'm going to take a deep breath and admit it to you, my friends, "You see, I've been thinking about this for weeks now and…"

"Rogue, who are you talking to?"

Hanks voice almost causes a heart attack and I think I might be coming down with something. How did I not hear him walking towards me, look at the size of those feet! I strangely find an extremely hairy man attractive in a tuxedo, I wish Logan would make the effort once in a while. I bet Beast has to have that suit dry cleaned every time he wears it, just think of the fur.

"Um, just myself." I reply, wringing my hands together and shuffling from foot to foot. "I find it calms me down."

"There's been another argument with Logan, hasn't there." He sighs, gesturing me to follow him into his office and take a seat. "I'm sorry, but even with my expertise I couldn't guarantee I'd be able to cure his anger. I do have a pamphlet somewhere for a lovely place off the coast of Scotland though, I hear they serve their steak beautifully and with a bottle of the finest wine." He opens the filing cabinet and starts to search for whatever the hell he's rambling about. "They also have the best therapists and doctors money can buy, I'm sure the Professor would…"

"Hank, I don't want to send Logan away."

Chuckling to himself, he stops what he's doing and collapses in his seat. "That might be a wise move, although, he wouldn't have to know about your involvement. I'm sure there's a way to bypass his healing factor and inject a substantial amount of anesthetic into his blood stream. I know I read about a type of drug…"

Hanks up on his feet again and hunting through piles and piles of paper work on a small table to his side. "No, I'm really not here about Logan, I'm really not. I want a boob job, and I need a recommendation from my doctor."

He drops the papers and they litter the floor. "I don't quite understand, Rogue."

"That I don't want to send Logan away or I want a boob job?"

"Well, both, actually."

I slap my hand against my forehead and groan at the absurd thought that the X-Men are supposed to protect the people of the world. Those poor unfortunate people, have they any idea how close they are to losing everything?

* * *

Hank stares at me and I stare back at Hank.

He's not wearing a tuxedo this time, that was days ago and he was taking Storm out to dinner. Apparently she ate the fish and he seen, smelt and gnawed on the worst steak he had ever had the misfortune of encountering. That's not why I'm staring though, he doesn't always wear a suit and talk about food.

"Is this some strange doctor way of telling me you don't think it's a good idea to have a boob job?" I ask him, wiping my increasingly sweating hands on my denim clad legs.

"A breast enlargement is completely out of the question, yes." He responds, the sympathy etched on his face as he gives me his best doctor's look.

"I can't believe it," I gulp, the reality slowly sinking in. "I'm sick, I'm sick and I'm going to die."

The tears roll down my cheeks and Hank places a box of tissues on my lap. He rests a furry, blue hand on my shoulder and attempts to be heard over my blubbering. "You're not going to die, Rogue and the sickness should pass."

"I haven't even been sick, I can't do anything right." I sob, mopping up my tears with a handful of tissues. "You don't understand, I'm going to die because Logan's going to kill me!"

"It wouldn't surprise me if Logan already knows, his sense of smell even surpasses mine."

"You mean he knows I'm four weeks pregnant and the bastard hasn't bothered to tell me?"

Blowing my nose, Hanks does all he can to calm me, but it's too late. The tears are coming thick and fast, we're all going to drown in here. I remember I used to visit Logan in this room after he saved me from Liberty Island, he was unconscious for so long and I thought he was going to die.

Now he doesn't like my breasts, I don't like my breasts, we're not talking to each other and I've been impregnated by one of his many scared sperm. I can't be a mother, all I want to do is run away to the nearest _Staples _and beg for a job. I never asked for a baby, I asked for bigger breasts that was all. Bigger breasts, a managers job, The-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator and the immediate resurrection of the two dearly departed Beatles members… Was that so difficult?

I'm strong, I can handle this, I'm going to whisper words of wisdom to myself and let it be. Yes, that sounds like a plan. Thank you, Paul McCartney.


	38. All Together Now

**_I can't believe how long it's taken to me finish the chapter and post this. Really, I can't. Thankfully I was quite hungover today and was able to sit in front of the computer and stare at the unfinished chapter until my Rogan muses returned. Oh, it really was fun. Actually I did have fun writing this. Especially the dialog and most of Rogue's thoughts._**

**_Now to the reviewers:_**

**_The Reserved Reader: Thank you. I do like my Logan too. I also wish he was my Logan. I have an unhinged mind myself which you've probably already realised for yourself. And I hope you've purchased Origins off iTunes and you laugh out loud again when reading this chapter. _**

**_Comic Cake: Way-aye-man, indeed. I did enjoy my fish, chips, stottie and scraps up there. Sunderland actually won their game which left me speechless with surprise and I had to wear a coat it was that cold. That didn't surprise me even though it was August. I also went for ice cream at that retro minchellas parlor shop thingie. Now that is what you call bloody good ice cream. I brought stottie cake back with me and actually sounded quite posh when talking in the middle of Sunderland town centre :P Its been years since I was last up there and not much has changed. It's still cold and miserable. LOL. _**

**_Princesakarlita411: Thank you!_**

**_wedimagineer: Thanks and sorry for the long wait. _**

_**Raven34link: Thank you.**_

_**alexmonalisa: I'm glad it confused you, that means I did my job correctly for the first time ever. Oh, my parents will be so very proud. PS. I love Devon, you pansy ass.**_

_**KelliDenise: Thank you!**_

_**iLooveRogan: You should love Rogan, it's the law. I hope you like the chapter.**_

**_mooonlove2527: Fucked up chapter endings are my favourite. And saying/typing that, I might have ended this chapter with another cliffhanger. LOL. _**

**_Wednesday the 8th of December is the thirtieth anniversary of John Lennon's death. I'm sure none of you care or are even fan's of the Beatles or Lennon's music, but THIRTY YEARS! I'm going through my Lennon stage again and I demand you all listen to a track called Working Class Hero, it's amazing._**

**_Now I will stop rambling and Liev you to read the chapter in peace :P_**

_**No wait, there is something else. I also read through this entire story and I couldn't believe how many typos and mistakes I found. By the end of it all, I was holding my head in my hands. I only edited the first two chapters before I ran away from cyber space hell.**_

_**And please do come and join our Rogan forum. The link is on my profile, just click homepage and sign up. Rambling skills and a love of Rogan are essential :P **_

_**Now I'm done. **_

**_

* * *

_**

**All Together Now**

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* * *

**

I hum Beatles songs when I'm bored, upset, angry, tired, fed up, happy, accidentally pregnant, confused... Why don't I just admit that I'm a hummer and hormonal. Humming is my coping mechanism and it certainly is coming in handy right now.

I'm holding back the tears. I know if I start to cry I won't be able to stop and a crying girl sitting in a sex store while staring at the naked John Lennon cardboard cut out is sacrilege. I will burn in hell if I cry while looking at that Liverpudlian hanging brain.

Sighing, I turn my gaze away from the cut out and settle on staring at the vibrators inside the counter instead. I really do miss my-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator.

I want to run. I really, really want to run. Last night I got as far as removing my green cloak from the wardrobe. It's my running coat and it smelt of mould. I couldn't do it though, I couldn't run and I definitely couldn't run smelling of mould.

I'm going to be a Mama and I need to do what's best for my unborn baby. Logan needs to as well, he needs to take responsibility. I don't even think he likes kids. Well, I get that impression from him daily anyway. He grumbles, growls and threatens to mount his bike and ride to the nearest bar if one teenager even looks his way.

How is he going to cope with our child? What happens when our baby learns to walk, throws tantrums, goes through that terrible two stage, turns thirteen and hates the world?

Logan won't cope with that, he can't even stand Disney movies and nursery rhymes. He can't stand me...

Babies are a turn off to guys, especially guys like Wolverine. But I will keep my baby, having an abortion has never crossed my mind.

Logan might dislike the very sight of me right now but he'll love our baby, won't he?

I don't need to play pin the pacifier on the expectant daddy. I used to be in a steady relationship bursting with banter, cigar smoke and hot sex. I... I thought Logan was the one. He's my baby's daddy and we can't stand to be in the same room together.

Where did it all go wrong and why do I keep rambling this all to myself in my fucking mind instead of going home, home to Logan?

He would want to know, I'm sure he would. And if I told him, he'd do one of two things:

1. Logan will smirk, light a cigar and tell me his sperm are sacred, and determined little fuckers. Then he would raise a beer to our baby and apologise for everything, quirk an eyebrow and carry me to bed. This is my dream outcome which will never ever happen.

2. He'd smash up the mansion, run away like the grumpy, growling bastard of a commitment phobe he is and I'd never see him again. But one week later the Professor will call me into his office to inform me an angry, hairy ape-like creature has caused authorities to release Sasquatch warnings to visitors in the Canadian Rockies.

This is catch twenty two and I was never very good at sports. My reflexes are pathetic at best, my arms are weedy and I can't catch a ball to save my life. I mean, I haven't even seen a set of real life balls in weeks. At least not a pair still attached to a living, breathing man. Sorry, Mr. Lennon but yours as spectacular as they are, do not shine a decrepit, caveman's torch to my Logan's.

I wonder if walking up to Logan and saying, "I've really missed your balls," would make everything go back to normal between us again. Of course I'd smile while I said it, then kiss him on the cheek and wait for him to compliment my breasts or lady garden. And he would too, with that smirk of his.

Oh my Lord, do I love that man's smirk. His eyebrows are worthy of a ten page spread in the New York Times and his biceps are not the only body part that bulges. And, fucking hell, Logan's torso is so hot I could fry an entire mansions worth of bacon, eggs and sausages on his chest and eat breakfast, lunch and dinner without ever having to leave my bed again.

I wouldn't get fat either, he has the best exercise regime this world has ever seen. It involves friction. Furious, frenzied feral friction.

Brushing the tears away with my finger tips, I stare at the vibrators and do my best to think about anything but babies. Logan's body doesn't usually make me cry. In fact it did once but they were happy, ecstatic, I-Have-The-Hottest-Man-In-The-Galaxy-Licking-At-My-Folds tears.

The floodgates open sometimes from both ends when you share your life, body and bed with a man who owns a tongue that's had more sexual experiences then Mick Jagger, Henry VIII, Gene Simmons, Smurfette and James Bond put together.

That little blond smurf had to be a little whorish with all those males around.

Talking or at least thinking of blonds, here comes my boss. The woman really does love wearing her pink, sparkly, huge, look at me, cowboy hats. I don't think I'd want to draw any more attention to myself if my head was that size.

"Oh now, Marie," She coos, rushing around the counter and dragging me against her breasts. Why did she have to wear such a low cut top? "Stop that crying right now."

"Um, okay." I squeak, being suffocated by her tits as she hugs the life out of me.

"This is about that man of yours, isn't it?"

Maybe if I answer yes, she'll let me go? "Yes, yes it is. I'm crying because of my man."

She releases me and I sigh in relief, trying not to glare at her chest. Those fuckers are dangerous. Weapons of mass destruction even. Why were the inspectors searching Iraq when the weapons were right here in New York all this time?

"I'll tell you what you need to do." She informs me, adjusting her bra straps and marching to the shelving units. "When Brett steps out of line, and believe me it happens all the time, I use some of our products on him."

Picking up a large purple riding crop style whip covered in glitter, she cracks it against her thigh and smiles at me. "First he dresses in my underwear and I'll tell you what, he looks better then me when he struts his stuff around the apartment. But he can never outrun the crop when he's in my heels."

I nod my head, the words having died in my throat. When others stand in front of me talking so honestly and unashamedly about their kinky sex lives, I just don't know what to say. Yes, I work in a sex store but it doesn't mean I shout about my bedroom habits from the roof tops.

If I did and people could actually hear me over the noise of the traffic, they would stop, stare, yawn and immediately die of boredom.

I haven't been officially made to scream out in pleasure for a month now. The last time I was laid, I was here in this very store and Logan still loved me then.

"Once I've given him a good thrashing, Brett cries into my chest and I wipe away the tears with my nipples. Then that's when the real fun starts." My boss continues despite my flushing face. "I strap his Spartacus into one of these things."

She hangs the riding crop back up and shows me a leather cock strap with a number of metallic rings hanging from the black material.

"Brett insists we call his penis by it's proper name Spartacus. Men are funny creatures, aren't they?"

Again I nod my head numbly. Right now words are as foreign to me as eating oven baked tarantula and actually enjoying and savouring the taste of it. Maybe even grinning and then declaring to the world on national TV that tarantula tasted just like jerky and I wished Walmart sold it.

"After his Spartacus is all safe and secure in his cage... You see, I think of it like when Elvis my cat needs to go to the vets and boy, does he hate going in his cage. But once he's in there, all snug as a bug in a rug, he's fine. Now where was I? Oh yes, Brett and his Spartacus. Well then I tie him to our bed with some of these bondage ropes and pop in to see Barbara next door but one to us. She gets lonely sometimes so I like to take her out to the clubs. The woman has just had a hip replacement but she could still show you young kids a thing or two on the dance floor."

"And what about Brett?" I ask curiously, blinking at her. "Do you just leave him there?"

"I sure do. It's part of his punishment. I get to have fun and he will sit there and think about his bad behaviour. This is how you'll treat that man of yours from now on."

"Oh, no. Logan wouldn't like that at all."

"Which part?" Amanda replies, placing the bondage ropes back to their rightful home and glancing over her shoulder.

I bite my fingernail and think for a moment or two. "Well," I sigh, frowning. "All of it really."

My boss grabs one of the riding crops and walks over to me. "Marie, I demand you take the rest of the day off. If I see you again today, I'll sack you." She pulls me into another hug as I whimper inwardly and gasp for breath.

"Um, okay."

"You're going to take this with you. The purple, glittery, sparkling leather riding crop is now your lucky charm. Please use it unwisely and don't return until you've whipped your man into shape, made him cry fat, girlish tears of pure, pink unadulterated upset and forced him to see the error of his ways. Good luck, now go!"

Once again releasing me from her gorilla arms, Amanda hands me the riding crop and shoos me out of the store. With a word of thanks, I wander down the street with my bag over my shoulder and my lucky charm in my hand. I don't think she knows Logan all too well.

* * *

I need to find a subtle way to tell the man sitting next to me there's nothing wrong with carrying a purple, glittery, sparkling riding crop around with me. Especially when said riding crop is too fucking large to fit in my handbag and does not like to bend without threatening to snap.

But a dark glare will have to do for now. I have annoying stuff to do, like thinking and gazing out of the window instead of staring at that woman's dandruff ridden head. She has black hair and I'm tempted to nickname her Snow White for obvious and very hilarious reasons.

She should have worn a hat. I find the presence of her dandruff ridden head right in front of me very distracting and not at all pleasing to the eye.

Then there's the man beside me who keeps raising an eyebrow at my riding crop and quite frankly, he smells. How dare he be making misinformed judgements about me when he smells like he sleeps in a dung heap in the height of an Arabian summer.

The other lady over there, the blond one with the short bleached hair and the matching dark unibrow is engrossed in reading a store receipt longer then Logan's cock. I suppose it could hold the secrets to eternal youth on there, but if she starts to lick it I'll be worried.

This is why I like to ride on a bus instead of calling Logan and riding him instead. He probably would have picked me up if I'd asked him to and it would have saved me catching three buses back to the mansion. Still that's where things would have gotten complicated. Being accidentally pregnant and all does complicate matters.

Logan must know I'm with child and months away from getting fat and hormonal. Even more hormonal that is. That could be why he hasn't told me. He's hoping this will all just blow over and I won't become a hormonal nut threatening to cut of his balls while he sleeps.

I only said that once and it was after he left wet towels on the bathroom floor. Anyway, it was the PMS talking, not me.

Men are fucking idiots. Especially the feral variety. You'd think a life changing surprise like this would warrant some kind of serious talk. But no, mean assed motherfuckers like Logan don't talk. They smoke, drink, fight, growl, grumble, grunt, sweat, lick, hump, grind, thrust, pant, bite, screw, pound and swear their way through life.

Oh, they cock eyebrows too. How could I forget about that?

The bus slows, and I look up realising I'm almost at my destination finally. It's only taken me three and a half hours to almost get there. I really need to learn to drive just so I can bitch and complain without my nose being assaulted by Mr. Shits-His-Pants here.

Yet another passenger steps on the bus and I watch her buy her ticket, reveling in the distraction she provides. These Logan thoughts make we want to cry again. And I've already cried twice at the last bus stop. The elderly man standing next to me at the time only apologised for his shirt and said it never made people cry when he used to wear it in the seventies.

The newest female passenger strolls past in search of a seat that isn't encrusted with dirt or gum and I snort at her appearance. I swear I've been spending too much time around Logan. That man doesn't bite back a snort when there's fun to be had and mocking to be done.

If I didn't know any better I'd say Jackie Kennedy-Onassis has just risen from the grave to come join me on this bus ride. It must get quite boring sitting on a cloud and looking glamorous for all of eternity.

I wonder what she's hiding behind her enormous sunglasses until she takes them off and my eyes widen. It looks like her face is melting and it probably is judging by all that foundation she's skimmed on with a trowel in hopes of papering over the cracks.

It was all in vain and her skin now looks as though it's trying to run away from her cheeks, chin and forehead. Her nose is an odd shape too. She must have been butchered by a so called surgeon. It's a little Jackson-esque and makes me shudder.

I can't help brush my fingers over my nose when she takes a seat behind me. I've never really liked the shape of it, but I now know it could be a hell of a lot worse.

"Shit!" I yelp when I notice the bus is about to drive right past my stop. And I jump up waving the riding crop in the air. "Wait, wait, wait! I need to get off here!"

Mr. You-Will-Smell-Me-Before-You-See-Me is more than happy to haul his stinking ass out the way. He's also still eyeing my crop as if I'm about to smack him across the face with it and demand a duel. Either that or his egg shaped head is full of perverted fantasies.

The driver grumbles at me about the use of bells on buses and how I almost caused an accident when I shouted. He too is wearing sunglasses. I look out the door, up into the overcast sky and know it's going to rain and everybody in New York is insane.

It's funny I should mention the word insane because as soon as I step off the bus I spot the Professor, legs and all, standing there. He waves off the bus without a word.

"You're standing at a bus stop, Professor." I announce, instantly feeling a little foolish. But I'm still not used to him having legs. And to be honest, I will never get over the fact he has needs.

"Indeed I am, Rogue." He replies, smiling.

Oh God, I hope he didn't hear me thinking about his needs again. The man is going to think I'm obsessed with him or something. Especially when I'm the one standing here with a purple, glittery, sparkling riding crop.

"Logan didn't kill anybody, did he?"

"No, he seems to be in his usual high spirits. The only casualties today have been young Bobby's ego and my favourite Chinese vase."

"Oh," I sigh, falling into step with him as we walk back to the mansion. "The poor vase."

My eyes are still drawn to his legs and I know he doesn't look like the Professor, but he does sound like him. And, Charlie has legs. It's just amazing and I have no idea why it fascinates me so much.

Charlie is also laughing at me. "The vase did live a very rich life. So we can't feel too sorry for it. Which leads me on to why I'm here. Being psychic sometimes has it's advantages."

I raise an eyebrow at him and feign innocence. "I don't know what you mean, Professor."

"A person's thoughts cannot be well hidden when they are distressed, Rogue. This might not be my place and you are more than welcome to tell me so, but I believe a talk with Logan is in order before you become ill with worry."

I stop walking and point at him with the purple, glittery, sparkling riding crop. "You know I'm pregnant, don't you?"

"Yes, I do know." The Professor answers calmly, his warm eyes twinkling. "Congratulations."

"Congratulations? Is that all you're going to say? I'm twenty one, pregnant and the father of my baby wants nothing to do with me!"

He frowns and fixes me with a frank look. "You haven't spoken to Logan yet, so how would you know that's how he feels?"

"Isn't it obvious? With his mutation he must have known from the very first day and didn't bother to tell me. Logan doesn't like kids or screaming babies. He's a fan of beer, cage fights, strippers..."

"Rogue, he doesn't know."

Those words bring me back to Earth with a massive bump and I almost cracked my head again. How can Logan not know I'm pregnant with his super senses? I don't believe the Professor and I think there's a conspiracy going on here.

"Logan projects his thoughts loudly and I've detected no distress from him at all. I don't think he knows."

"But the way he's been acting towards me." I splutter in shock. "I thought it was because he knew I was pregnant. Are you telling me he's been a grumpy bastard this past month just because I refused to have sex with him?"

"Well, yes." The Professor responds, blushing slightly.

"I'm... I can't... I'm going to kill him."

Storming away from the Professor, I begin to march up the hill towards the mansion gates and with one aim in mind: I'm going to kick Logan in the balls.

How hard can it be to tell a grumpy, cantankerous, feral mutant that he's going to be a daddy in eight months time. The answer is very fucking hard, but I can do it.

All together now; You're an asshole and I'm pregnant! Yeah, I might have to work on the phrasing of that sentence.


	39. Give Peace a Chance

_**Yes, I'm awful. I can't remember the last time I updated a story. You see, I talked myself into taking an Open University course. And it is sucking the life and every spare minute out of me. Whoever said leaning was fun, is an idiot. **_

_**This chapter is short because I'm desperately trying to rediscover the characters again. It also took me far too long to write today. Still, ignoring coursework is a must when Rogan is involved. I just hope my tutor agrees with me there. **_

_**More importantly, to the reviewers! A special thank you to: alex, Ragamuffin, bahnannah, Queenofold, The German, Zandra, Hiya, Stampiej, Princesakarlita411, I-am-the-wolf, TrickyBusiness.**_

* * *

**Give Peace a Chance**

* * *

I know I look like a drowned she devil rat-like creature on the cusp of a non sexual explosion while marching up the driveway in the pouring rain... But and there's a _big_ but here. I mean large, as in HUGE and so incredibly enormous that even Santa clause can squeeze his fat ass in there and decorate my but with tinsel, stockings and reindeer excrement.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, my big but concerns the fact I don't give two million flying fucking ferals if the heavens are opening above and attempting to drown me just to stop my murderous mission. Nor do I care what I look like.

Logan has seen me at my worst in the mornings and has never run away. Which is remarkable really, because I have the dragged-through-a-hedge-backwards-while-being-beaten-by-a-tree-trunk-and-slobbered-on-by-a-hairy-dog-look down and it's set in marble. Next weekend I will be adding the gold leaves, tying a bow around my masterpiece and handing it to the Professor with an apologetic note attached. It can replace his Chinese vase and sit beautifully beside his desk at the same time dominating the room and scaring all the visitors away.

I stop, stare, gulp and almost bite my tongue in half. Gripping my riding crop and cursing to myself, to the sky, to the creator of denim, the inventor of wifebeaters, engine grease and... God. That God has _so_ much to answer for. He should have kept his facial hair to himself instead of smothering Logan with it.

Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I'm standing here lost for words and gawking at Wolverine in the garage tinkering with his bike. I'm certainly wet, just not in _that _way. I mean, I wish I was wet in _that _way. Oh, I'd give anything for him to fuck me senseless against his motorcycle but I'm not sure how it would work. Health and safety needs to be taken in to consideration now I'm in the family way.

Hard hats would have to be worn, and maybe a harness too. The garage floor will also need to be covered in wood chips or possibly rubber. Ugh. If Logan had been wearing a rubber to begin with I wouldn't be in this position now. The position I was in then was incredible. And it's not surprising I'm pregnant with the way Logan was thrusting away. Even after he came his hips didn't stop moving. They were like the Michael Jackson of the dance world.

His sperm probably took refuge in my fallopian tubes because they were terrified and needed somewhere to hide. Along came an egg and those feral sperm saw it as their opportunity to fight for supremacy. There was surely a fight to end all fights and my tubes are now splattered with sperm debris. An egg was fertilised by accident, because, come on, you don't expect anything that comes out of his body to be intelligent at all, do you? And the rest will be history once I tell him my news... Or I'll be history.

Shit. Logan wouldn't kill me would he?

Logan lifts his head and I curiously watch him sniff the rain soaked air. He looks so adorable when he does that, nose wrinkled and thoughtful look painted on his handsome face. His brow furrows and his gaze snaps my way, then he sighs. Oh no. Do you think that heavy, what the fuck is that girl doing sigh is a bad sign? I know I do and before his upper lip curls in a snarl and he bares his teeth at me, I turn right around and march back towards the gates.

I wish he would bare something else at me, I truly, truly do. Yes, this isn't the right time for my perverted thoughts to make an appearance, but… _PLEASE! _You haven't seen Logan naked and you never will because he's mine, all mine. Cue villainous laugh and surprised yelp.

"Logan!"

He sweeps me off my feet, raises an 'Are you fucking stupid?' eyebrow and stalks back to the garage with me gently cradled to his chest.

"Put me down." I demand, hiding my happiness at the latest development behind a southern scowl fit for a southern girl. "I'm just like the professor: I have legs, too."

He snorts, shaking his handsome head. Look at him, my Logan, shaking his head in such a pulchritudinous way. That P word means beautiful and yes, I've only just discovered its existence too. I like to read the dictionary before I go to bed at night. No, I really do. Logan has been spending most of his time in the danger room or garage, and I still can't find my-Paris-Hilton-fuschia-coloured-beautiful-diamond-encrusted-one-thousand-dollar-vibrator.

"I ain't lettin' you wander off soaked through to your panties. You're gonna catch sick, darlin'." He tells me gruffly and I melt against his muscular white cotton clad chest.

He still cares about me if he used that term of endearment! Oh, I could cry tears of happiness right now. And I'm doing just that. Damn it. What is the matter with me? Has this unplanned pregnancy pushed me over the edge, from sane to insane in the blink of an unborn baby's eye?

That has me wondering if the baby will have a warm inviting shade of hazel eyes like me or 'grr, I'm gonna kill you' light brown feral eyes like my Logan, because he is still mine, you know. He called me 'darlin' and it means everything in the world to me.

"Hey, you're cryin'" Logan grunts, setting me on a battered old stool in the garage. "Why you cryin'?" His eyes narrow in concern and he captures a tear on his grease stained thumb.

Is this the time to stand up, part my lips and tell him I'm with child?

"Marie, talk to me." He orders, capturing my chin with his calloused hand and looking me in the eye. "What the hells wrong?"

Struggling eternally for the correct words, I blurt out the first thing that comes to my crazy mind. "Logan." Yes. See, that's not so bad at all. Well done, Marie. Well fucking done. You always start with the persons name when you're going to deliver life changing, brick shitting news.

"Yeah?" The man in question responds, eyebrow fully cocked to attention.

I take a deep breath, desperate to compose myself. Come on, Marie D'Ancanto, you can do this. This is nowhere near as terrifying as the time you had to tell Logan you had scratched his bike. Now _that _was a difficult situation. Of course, after I told him, then ran away, he sprinted after me and dumped me headfirst in the swimming pool. I have my doubts he will attempt to drown me this time.

My eyelids slide shut, my stomach twists in numerous knots and I take another calming breath. "My purple, glittery, sparkling riding crop got caught in the rain."

Jesus fucking Christ. What the heck is the matter with me?

I can almost hear the cogs turning, whirling and working away in his mind. He thinks I'm utterly insane, I know he does because I'm thinking that same thing right now.

"Oh," Logan grunts, tugging affectionately on a lock of my damp hair. "That's too bad, darlin'."

"It is, isn't it." I mutter, clearing my throat and gazing up at him. "But that wasn't what I wanted to tell you at all."

He smirks and now I'm feeling wet. I do love it when my man smirks, growls, speaks, blinks, flips the bird, eats a raw steak, goes to the toilet. Anything and everything Logan does makes me wet.

"Thought so. Why don't you try again, huh?"

I'm surprised he doesn't want to know why the fuck I'm carrying a purple, glittery, sparkling riding crop around with me in the pouring rain. But Logan doesn't ask, he knows I'm crazy and I have bigger fish to fry. I've never actually fried a fish before… And that's where this thought process ends.

Get a fucking grip, Marie.

"Logan, what I wanted to say was, um," This time I pin him with my gaze and act like the adult I truly am. After all, twenty one years olds are at the age where they can hold a conversation without peeing their pants. "I'm-"

"Yeah I know, Marie." Logan interrupts, pulling me into his arms.

"You do?" I ask, smiling like I've just become an overnight millionaire. "You've just taken such a weight off my mind."

He grins wolfishly against my lips, kissing the life out of my flushed face. "Yeah, I do. And I'm hopin' you won't mind me weighin' you down again while I'm pounding you into the mattress."

I'm almost so deliriously happy, I'm close to making love to him right here. "But, Logan. Wait." I stop him just as he begins to drag me out the garage. "We need to talk everything through first. I mean, are you okay about all this?"

Logan frowns. "Sure am."

"You are?"

"Yeah, darlin'. Course I'm okay about this." He sighs, cupping my cheek and smirking. "I've missed comin' inside a woman. Especially _my_ screamin' woman."

That answer fills me with dread. Absolute dread. Please don't tell me we've gotten our wires crossed. I'm begging you, God. You can't do this to me now, I was about to get fucking laid.

"Logan, what did you think I was about so say when you rudely interrupted me?" My face pales, eyes widen and I cross my fingers in hope.

"That you were sorry…" His voice trails off and he suddenly growls. "I'd bet my bottom dollar that you ain't though."

"Don't take that tone with me, Wolverine." I warn him, waving my purple, sparkly, glittery riding crop in his snarling face. "I was more than happy to give peace a chance, but I'm not apologising for anything."

He shakes his head, features beginning to soften. "Then what were you gonna say?"

I refuse to meet his questioning gaze and stare at the cluttered worktop instead. Logan is such a messy bastard, dim too. They do say beautiful people are stupid and have no brains to speak of. Who are _they, _though? The ugly people who are only jealous when they spot Logan trudging out a bar after a cage fight? No. They are the people who have just got their asses kicked by my Wolverine.

"Marie?" Logan growls, shaking me gently by the shoulders. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

I frown at his choice of wording, eyes flickering to his. "Not your cock, that's for sure."

He doesn't even try to bite back a snort. "Darlin', you any idea how much I've missed this? Us just hangin' out and shootin' the breeze?"

I bite my lip, chewing on it thoughtfully for a moment. "I've missed you, Logan." I admit truthfully, tugging at his belt buckle with a lust filled look.

"That ain't the only thing you've missed though, huh?" He smirks, adjusting his jeans.

Shaking my head, I decide now is the time to come clean. If we're sorting out our differen_ces, _Logan needs to know everything. I always hated lying to him anyway and decide I'm just going to throw my baby bomb into the conversation.

"No, it isn't." I croak softly, taking his hand in mine, in case he tries to make a run for it. "I've missed my period too."


	40. Twist and Shout

_**Okay, firstly – I'm back! I know, I know, it's been absolutely forever and I should hang my silly head in shame. So much has happened and my mind has been here, there and everywhere. But through my absence I've been amazed to see readers are still reviewing this story with passion and love. This brings an enormous smile to my face and I have to thank you all! **_

**Identityless – **No, this story has not been discontinued. It's a slow process, but I vow to have this finished before I'm old and grey. I know how this story is going to end and I've had it planned that way since the first chapter. With that in mind, I know I'll never abandon this story completely, but sometimes life gets in the way. Thanks for taking the time to review.

**Dudtheman – **Thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Anime Hottie Lovah – **I've updated, I've updated! XD

**Username – **You're an idiot. I sometimes have enormous bursts of creativity that throw gigantic grenades into my life. These 'bursts' can be fun; they also provide stories such as this one to the Rogan community. If certain readers don't like this story or fail to see the 'zany' humour in the words, that is their problem, not mine. Hence I refuse to label my story as crack.

**Lingering Fears –** Thank you for taking the time to review and it's greatly appreciated that you wanted me to update this story.

**Notashamedtobe – **Thanks for the reviews. I also hope Jubilee tells Mel what a dick he is. ;)

**Jollyroger11 – **Yes, I know what you mean. I've always known Rogue is rather OOC in this story. But shh, don't tell anybody I prefer her this way because it might get me shot in serious X-Men circles. Oh yes, I'd love an orgasmic relationship with my Rogan muse! LOL.

**CrazyInsane995 – **Aw, thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed reading my ridiculous concept of a story so far. It's been so much fun to write!

**EasGames – **These are the types of reviews I love to receive: tales of laughter. :D

**Raven34link – **Thanks for reading and commenting!

**QueenofOld – **Uni almost killed me and will do when I begin another course this September. But guess what I'm studying this time! Creative Writing. Ha, it should be fun. I also see you've been writing like a nut since I went AWOL. Thanks for reviewing and making me look terrible. ;)

**TrickyBusiness – **Thanks for the 'good luck', it was greatly appreciated at the time. I hope you love this chapter too.

**Alexmonalisa –** It's been forever, I know. Gosh, I'm a terrible person. But thanks for reviewing over a year ago. I can't believe it's been that long! O_O

**_Anyway, now I've sent shout outs to all my amazing reviewers, it's on with the show. Welcome to chapter forty!_**

* * *

**Twist and Shout**

* * *

The minutes swim by in a frenzied torrent until a flash flood is building blocks behind my terrified eyes. "Logan," I whisper softly, waving a hand in front of his face and finally finding my voice. "Please say something. _Please_."

He blinks and continues to watch me for what seems like forever until he grunts out a single, prickly word. "Beer." Then he stalks to his bike faster than a Portland pothead with a severe case of munchies seeks out a 7-Eleven. And with that he hops on his motorcycle and refuses to even glance in my general direction.

"What? But you have beer in the mansion. I'm sure Jubilee hasn't stolen it all again. You can't leave, Logan, not now. I'm… _You know_."

Logan's eyes shoot toward me and his bike growls to life, his thick, muscular thighs vibrating against the rumbling engine. I stand here waiting for him to talk, to say something, to tell me he loves me and he's thrilled I'm carrying his baby. But I receive nothing from his handsome mouth, not even the snarl of a curled lip or a predatory smirk. Nothing, he isn't saying anything, he isn't doing anything.

Then my man, the rough, tough Wolverine tears his heavy gaze away from me and mutilates the concrete floor as he flees the scene on his motorcycle. He leaves me alone with the smell of burnt rubber and the feeling of complete abandonment.

I'm not alone though and I storm fiercely out of the garage to shriek at the retreating form of that damn bastard, Wolverine. "I'm pregnant, Logan!" I scream hysterically, my trembling hand resting on my flat stomach. "I'm pregnant!"

"Rogue!" Jubilee exclaims from behind me, joining me in the miserable drizzle while I mourn the loss of another loved one walking out of my life.

Oh God, he wasn't walking though, he fled! Logan bolted like a racehorse and he couldn't wait to reach his stable full of floozies and hay. That slimy, cowardly, shitty excuse for a beautiful man! I hope he's dragged whinnying to the knacker's yard and turned into glue! But – But I love him.

"I want Logan." I bawl, dropping to my knees and holding my head in my hands. I don't care about anything or anyone except Logan. He needs to come back; he has to come back, because I can't do this without him.

Looking concerned, furious even, Jubilee guides me to my feet and pulls me into a tight hug. "I knew I should have cut it off." She whispers to me, trying to lighten the tone.

Sobbing in my best friend's arms, I feel like my world is crumbling around me. "It would have just grown back."

"Then it would be a game. I'd cut it off, he'd grow it back to be annoying and I'd keep finding ways to make him lose it. Trust me, it would totally catch on in Beverly Hills, those people are freaks out there." She shrugs and walks me toward the mansion with a spring in her step. "You had better spill, Roguey! How long have you known? How fat do you think you're going to get? Man, I bet your ankles are going to be so swollen it'll look like you're walking about on a space hopper!"

I cringe tearfully at her words and wipe my eyes with the back of my hands. "I've known a little while and now Logan knows he'll stay away forever." I whispered, falling into a bucket full of tears again. "He's – He's never going to come back, Jubes!"

Jubilee snorts and throws her arm over my shoulder. "Oh, he's going to come back with his tail between his legs." She announces with a toothy grin. "Stop crying, Chica. You should save the tears for when you give birth. Whoa, I've heard really creepy stories about women popping out ten pound babies and they weren't even given drugs. You know, there was this one story where this ugly lady, yeah she really looked like a troll who ate sheep and that, she sat down to pee and squeezed out a baby instead. It nearly drowned when she flushed and didn't realise –"

"Jubilee! I don't need to hear this right now_ or_ ever again." I cry loudly, pressing my hands to my ears. She's scaring me and the little Wolverine growing inside me. "Stop talking, stop talking, and stop talking!"

My best friend lets the front door slam behind her and drops a piece of chewing gum in her mouth with a twisted smirk. "Hey, Roguey, I know you love me already and I'm totally going to be the baby's godmother, but you're going to love me even more in a minute."

"What?" I ask her with a miserable sniffle and a dejected look. "What is it?

"We're going to get even with Logan. And then, and only then, we'll capture his ass again. Oh. My. God!" She breathes excitedly, bouncing up and down. "This is just like the beginning of an adventure. We started with trying to get Logan, we got him, he ran away and now we have to get him again. It's like fate has brought us here and the stupid, lumpy, hot asshole isn't ready to settle down yet, but we've got to convince him he's the biggest bastard on the planet for taking off."

"He is the biggest bastard on the planet for taking off." I sigh heavily, sitting on the bottom of the stairs and tearing up again. "I told him I was pregnant and he ran away for beer and hay."

"Hay?" She repeats with a heavily creased brow.

"Nothing, it's nothing." I reply grumpily, resting my elbows on my knees. "And I don't know if I want him back, Jubes. What if he runs away again when I'm having labour pains or after I give birth? What if he takes off because my hormones get crazy and I can't have sex after I've had the baby? He likes sex you know. If I can't give him what he wants, he won't want to be with me."

"Chica, you're meant for each other!" Jubilee squawks, settling down beside me and nudging my side. "It's always been Wolverine and Rogue. If you break off and go your separate ways now who can I sing "Logan and Marie, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G" to? And what about your kid, Rogue? Heshe deserves to be raised by its parents." She leans closer and whispers in my ear. "That means both you and Logan, by the way. Oh, and get this, friend of mine: If Logan doesn't want you because you can't fuck him, then I really will snap it off and dance around him holding his old worm like a trophy."

I slap Jubilee's arm and frown mockingly. "Heshe? Don't call my bubba that."

My most annoying, but greatest friend breaks down into a long fit of giggling. "That's one hairy Bubba you're going to have. Seriously, Rogue, it's going to hurt, a lot. Especially if Heshe is the same size as its ape dad!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jubilation Lee! I'm not listening to you!" I sing song as I jump up to my feet and climb the stairs two at a time.

"Hey, wait for me." She calls after my disappearing form and jogs up the stairs with a manic grin."Do you really think you're going to have a boy?"

"I don't know," I answer, clacking my teeth together and scrunching my nose deep in thought as I stroll along the hallway. I stroke my stomach and smile, a rush of love spiking through me in a wave that lasts mere seconds until I remember why I so upset to begin with. "I guess I'd love to have a little Logan running about, but I would be happy with either sex."

"Oh no, you Southern sex pot! No sex for you ever again, Chica." Jubilee fires back, smirking teasingly at me and putting her sunglasses on. "Look where it's gotten you…" She trails off and is completely silent until we reach mine and Logan's bedroom.

I let myself in the room in pensive silence and pause by our messy closet. Logan was always such a pig and I was always nitpicking at him like a mother hen. I would lecture him about picking up his clothes and he always hated it when I did that. Maybe that was why he was in such a rush to leave? He hadn't picked up his clothes again and he knew I'd be mighty pissed by that. But no, I can't think like that and keep making excuses for the man I love with all my heart. The only reason he left was because I have a baby growing inside my womb, the cowardly bastard!

"You're pregnant." Jubilee finishes off her earlier sentence.

"Yes, I know." I sigh, rubbing my eyes and turning away from the mess spilling from the closet doors. "Are you feeling okay, Jubes?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, but I know Logan won't be when we're finished with him." She ushers me over with a wave of her hand and a devilish smirk tugging her luscious lips.

"Oh God, what am I getting myself into again?" I groan half-heartedly, shuffling over to my best friend and dropping down on the bed to discuss a string of plans fit for a cowardly horse named Logan.


End file.
